


White Knight

by Mysticaldoily



Series: Dark Slayer Trilogy [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Foster Care, Playlist, Redemption, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-29
Updated: 2005-07-29
Packaged: 2018-10-13 19:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 49,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysticaldoily/pseuds/Mysticaldoily
Summary: Title: “White Knight”--Dark Slayer #3Author: MystdAUPairing: S/BRating: Strong R (for sexual content)Pre-Finale: Somewhere in S6Description: Buffy’s in deep. She’s become addicted to punishing herself any way she can, trying to distance herself from her past and her Slayer duties. Having become employed by a business saavy vampire club owner, Spike now has to do whatever he can to get her out…but does she want to be rescued? Meanwhile Dawn learns her foster family's secret.Disclaimer: I own nothing here, I just fantasize a lot. Crazy, smutty, fantasies lead to either insanity or Spuffy fiction. Joss is the high ruler of all that is BtVS and Angel and basically he is to be worshipped.Author’s Note: This story has been beta’d via Livejournal posts. Thanks to lmbossy for your help with that. Thanks to spikesbambina, chrissie_linnit, and ladycat713 for your support and comments. You guys are the best!





	1. Chapter 1

Buffy’s hair glistened in the moonlight from the window above her kitchen sink, bopping back and forth from the stove, to peer around the fridge at the television, and back to the stove. She stirred her macaroni noodles, and continued to peek around the fridge so as not to miss the ending of Lost. She didn’t bother with lights anymore…they cost her money.

She took the noodles off the burner, shutting it off with her free hand, and strained the noodles over the sink using just the lid, hot steam floating around her head and up to the rainwater-stained ceiling.

“Buffy.”

She jumped, pot clattering in the sink. Cursing out loud, she spun around, staring at the open window, but letting out a breath when she recognized a familiar face. It was Harry, her landlord.

“Y-you scared the shit out of me,” Buffy breathed, “And anyway, whatever happened to calling me ‘Elizabeth’?”

Harry motioned towards the door. “Can I…?”

“Oh sure.” 

Buffy flipped on the ceiling light in the living room and unlocked the door.

“Sorry to bother you…” he began apologetically.

“Nah, no big,” Buffy assured him with a shrug, “Just making dinner.”

“I-uh-forgot to mention yesterday that some guy came by here looking for you…” Harry scratched his graying beard.

Buffy’s heart caught in her throat. Lucas. Oh no…did Harry know?

“Had white hair like some punk-rocker…”

Buffy looked away and began cleaning up the noodles in the sink, scooping them back into the pot. She’d eat them despite their falling into the drain. She didn’t have anything else to eat.

“…called you ‘Buffy.’ Wanted you to know he’d been by here. Said his name is ‘William,’” Harry touched Buffy’s shoulder and gave her a concerned look, his eyes squinting at her, “This guy ain’t botherin’ you or anything…?”

Buffy shook her head. “No…he’s just an old friend.”

Harry chuckled. “That’s exactly what he said.”

She stirred the pat of margarine into the noodles in the little pot. They squished together as she mixed them with a plastic, long-handled, spoon, the yellow square drooling yellow as it melted slowly.

“Disposal workin’ okay for ya?” He pointed at the sink.

“Yes, thanks.” Buffy nodded and opened the fridge and took out a small jug of milk.

“Good. Well then, I’m off. Came to fix Magdelena’s runny faucet again…”

“Did she try and get you to stay for dinner with her and her cats again?” Buffy asked him with a smirk.

“Yes ma’am she did. But I’ve told her before…I’m not interested. I’m a married man. And besides…she’s too old for me anyways.” He ran his hand through his thinning hair.

Buffy smiled. “Yeah, 85 doesn’t seem to be your speed.” She poured some milk into the noodles, ripped open the powdered cheese, and stirred it all together. 

Presto. Powdered cheesy goodness.

She looked at it and frowned.

For the past seven days.

“You can’t live on that, Liz.” Harry pointed as he turned to head for the door.

“Oh trust me, you can,” Buffy sighed, “I have for about 4 months now. G’night, Harry.”

“Goodnight, dear,” he answered her and left, his boots clomping down the stairs. He never even noticed the blonde-haired vampire hidden underneath the steps, leaning up against the house, his face hid among the shadows.

****

 

“So this is the place?” Tara asked quietly, staring up at the neon sign and raising one brow. Giles peered at the doorway of the Midnight Club through binoculars.

“Yeah, a regular hornet’s nest full of vamps and tramps…” Spike’s voice trailed off.

Giles lowered the binoculars. “How should we do this? You’ve been inside…”

Spike closed his eyes. “We need to get rid of Sarafina. Bitch goes and her little drones will scatter off someplace else. Cockroaches tend to do that when you turn on the light. We’re gonna need to turn on the light.”

“There are humans in there too, right?” Tara asked her quiet voice tinged with worry.

“Yeah and Buffy’s in there too. Bottom line…kill vampire bitch and get Buffy out safely,” Spike said and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

“The humans intermingle with the vampires?” Giles asked with a frown. 

“Yeah, mostly dancers, some staff, a few human visitors that think they are exempt from becoming Little Debbie Snack Cakes…” Spike mumbled, eyes fixed on the front door.

“We’ll go in as your lookouts,” Giles said glancing at Spike, “You locate Sarafina and get Buffy…we’ll hold them off upstairs and make sure you have a clear escape route.”

Tara, who had been clutching a small, wooden, box, said softly, “I have a present for the vampires. I-I won’t open it if you’re in the area,” she added, looking at Spike.

“Good. I’d like it if I don’t die right now,” he retorted.

Giles flipped the switch on the bot, her body coming to life, a smile shining on her face. “Hi, everyone! Oh look…it’s my Watcher, Mr. Giles! Hi, Rupert!” Buffy Bot waved at him. Spike rolled his eyes.

“Okay. I’m your date,” Tara placed the box into her large bag and grabbed a hold of Spike’s arm.

“Wow…very forward of you, luv,” Spike responded with a smirk.

Giles nodded. “I see…yes. And Buffy Bot is my date tonight.” 

Buffy Bot frowned, “But I thought I’m fond of Spike’s imperfect yet beautiful teeth as well as his six-pack abs!”

Spike glared at the bot and shook his head. Giles patted Buffy Bot’s hand with a wince. “That’s right but for this evening you’re my date, okay?”

“Can we cut out the Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood act now and get to killing the evil vampire who, may I remind you, is currently draining your Slayer?” Spike snapped.

Giles frowned and nodded. Spike took Tara’s hand and without another word, led her across the parking lot.

“Just act natural,” Spike whispered as they approached the bouncer. Tara nodded.

Spike nodded at the bouncer who gave him a smile, winked at Tara, and pushed the door open for both of them. “You have a good night Spike,” he said after them.

Outside, Giles ushered Buffy Bot towards the door. The bouncer gave a smile towards the bot, then stopped Giles, holding up his hand. “I.D., please.”

“Yes-yes, of course.” He pulled out his I.D. and held it up to the vampire bouncer. He checked it and nodded. 

Looking back at Buffy Bot he smiled. “Heya Buffy. Like the blonde hair.”

Buffy Bot smiled and tossed her hair for good measure. “Thank you! It’s synthetic…”

Giles laughed nervously and took hold of her arm, guiding her into the club before the bouncer could say anything in response. As he and the bot walked in, he looked around and spotted Spike and Tara standing near the bar. Giles maneuvered Buffy Bot towards the back of the club, finding an empty booth with a good view…of well, everything.

He watched as a young woman, no more than 20 years old, ripped off her sequined bra and tossed it offstage. 

“Her breasts have been augmented,” Buffy Bot stated, “They are made of a similar material as my breasts…”

Giles held up his hand. “Lord, please stop…NOW.”

Buffy Bot shrugged and smiled, watching the red-headed dancer on stage shimmy to the hard rock music. Rob Zombie’s ‘Dragula’ blared over the speakers.

Meanwhile, Spike and Tara ordered two bottles of Bud Light from the vampire bartender, the same one from the other night, who insisted Spike sign his lucky shot glass.

Taking the glass from the bartender in his right hand and a Sharpie marker in his left, Spike wrote:

You Suck. --Spike

The bartender read the signature and grinned. “Thanks man, you rock!” He patted Spike on the shoulder and looked at his shot glass with a smile.

“Hard core…dude,” Spike sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned away from him.

“So, where’s your friend?” Tara asked, trying not to watch the topless dancer off to her right.

“Probably downstairs. That’s where the freak show is…” Spike sipped his beer. 

“Buffy chose to be part of it,” Tara said sadly, “Just be prepared for her reaction to you trying to take her out of there.”

Spike nodded and took a long chug of beer from his bottle and put it on the bar with a clank. He looked down at it, the glass bottle sweating onto the slick, black, countertop, forming a ring of water around it. In his mind he was back at Willy’s…drinking himself into oblivion. He shook his head.

No more. I don’t care what the fuck she says to me…I’m getting her outta here.

“I’ll be right here, Spike. Giles and the bot are just behind us towards the back of the club. G-go…find her. Here,” Tara handed him a small, nickel-sized, white rock. It glowed just slightly.

“What’s this?”

“I have one here just like it. Crush it underfoot when you’re done. I’ll know because mine will stop glowing. They’re easy magic but useful magic, enchanted.” Tara gave him a little smile and took a sip of her beer.

He nodded and put the stone in his front jeans pocket. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “Thanks…you’re a good one, Tara.” He gave her cheek a kiss and left the bar, Tara’s face pink with a blush.

Giles watched Spike leave Tara’s side as he ordered a Gin and Tonic from the waitress. Buffy Bot continued to point out fake breasts and a nose job on the new dancer. Giles sighed and prayed his drink would come quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarafina was downstairs, just as he’d figured. Spike greeted the guard from the other night, who said “hello” and let him into the viewing room, no questions asked. Sarafina greeted him with a smile on her ruby red lips, and a kiss on his cheek.

“I knew you’d be back,” she said, “But you’re a bit early…Slayer’s just being drugged now.”

“Drugged?” Spike asked, slowly taking a seat on the arm of the couch Sarafina was lounging on.

“Yes. She’s become very popular as of late. I have 10 requests already for tonight. We’re drugging her up a bit so that the Slayer doesn’t react quite as much. I normally wouldn’t care but she’s a hot commodity right now. I can’t have her trying to quit on me, now can I?” Sarafina giggled, “Plus the clients get a little bit of an extra high.” She winked. 

“What if she did quit?” Spike asked and lit a cigarette. He took a long drag and blew out the smoke above their heads. 

Sarafina motioned towards his cigarette. “May I?” Spike nodded and handed it to her. She took a puff and smiled, releasing the smoke in a large ring from her red lips.

“I’d have to kill her, obviously. I’d lose the money I am making. I have her booked for the next few weekends, and besides…she knows too much having worked here,” Sarafina shrugged, “But that’s not going to happen as long as the poor little Slayer continues to struggle in life. She’s only thinking of the money, the free sex, and the coke right now. I intend to keep it that way. At least…until my needs have been met.” She handed the cigarette back to him. He glanced at it, and frowned at the red lipstick left at the end.

“Right,” Spike answered and flicked the cigarette on the floor. Sarafina glanced at the ashes on the carpet and looked back up at him. “So where’s all your clientele?”

“Holding downstairs. They all paid extra for a private feed with the Slayer…thanks to you…you inspired me, Spike.” She patted his knee and gave it a squeeze.

Deciding he’d had enough, Spike took his chance and grabbed her wrist. She smiled and gave a little laugh. “Oh…I see,” she touched his chest with her free hand, “You didn’t come to watch the feeding, did you?”

Spike stayed quiet, keeping his blue eyes trained on her. He closed his hand over her other arm and brought her close to him. She laughed again breathily and ran her tongue up his neck.

“You should’ve dumped Drusilla long ago…we would have made a glorious team,” She kissed his cheek and brushed her lips against his, “We still can. Join me…”

Spike continued to stare at her, not releasing her arm, but letting go of her wrist. He leaned closer, touched her face and whispered, “Wouldn’t that be a party?” 

Just as her lips met his, Spike grabbed her head with both hands and twisted…her neck gave a sickening crack, her body slumping to the ground. Not missing a beat, Spike jumped up and stabbed her through the chest with a stake, leaving nothing but a pile of dust on the red carpet next to his cigarette ashes.

“Sorry, pet,” he said letting out a sigh of relief, crunching his boot into the dust, “I’m busy. I have to wash my hair.”

Spike quickly headed out the door. The guard looked at him with a frown.

“Where’re you goin’?”

Spike punched the guard in the stomach, bringing his head down into his knee, “Down,” he answered through gritted teeth as the guard grabbed his arm and began to dig his nails into it, twisting Spike’s wrists.

“Play nice, now Dopey…” Spike growled, his eyes yellow, his forehead bumpy, teeth extended. Stomping on the guard’s foot, he broke free of his grasp and punched him in the face, the guard’s head bouncing back against the wall. He fell to the ground, Spike quickly staking him in the chest. 

Spike headed to the second flight of stairs which led down to the door of the feeding room. Spike tried the knob, but it was locked. Sighing, Spike knocked on the door.

“Yes?” a gruff, muffled, voice asked.

“You might want to take a look at this…” Spike said calmly.

“Look at what?” 

Spike took out a bottle of lighter fluid from his jacket pocket and squirted it onto the carpet and the wall. Lighting a match, he flicked it onto the floor. The floor immediately lit up, a roar of fire, licking up the wall with a crackle.

“There’s a fire out here,” Spike said matter-of-factly, side-stepping the flames.

The door opened up and the vamp guard rushed out. Spike pushed his way in as the other vampires pushed their way out, yelling for a fire extinguisher. As Spike entered the little office, he punched another vampire guard who rushed at him, pulling out his stake and quickly dusted the dumpy vampire.

The guard who opened the door turned around from the hall then.

“Hey! What the hell do…?!”

Spike slammed the door in his face and locked it and headed to the other side of the office which led to the main room. In the middle of the room sat the bed, two vampires feeding from Buffy, who once again laid strapped to the bed, naked and limp.

The two vamps looked up as Spike slammed open the door, his coat flapping behind him as he stalked toward them, rage blazing in his blue eyes, anger pulsing from his every step.

The first vamp, who was a terrible rendition of Antonio Banderas from Desparado, dark black ponytail and dark eyes and tan skin, smirked at Spike with bloody lips, jumping up from the side of the bed where he sat. He motioned with both hands for Spike to come at him. The second vampire’s eyes went wide with fear.

“Uh…Diego…that’s…” he started, backing away from Buffy and pointed at Spike with a shaky finger.

“Yeah, yeah…the great and powerful William the Bloody,” Antonio Vamp snapped with a chuckle, his Spanish accent heavy. He spat onto the floor. “About to be dead and bloody,” he sneered lazily.

Spike smirked, “You first, Rico Sauve…”

The second vampire, a very pale guy with sandy hair ran towards the office door, smoke greeting him when he opened it.. He looked around wildly, noticed the larger, garage, door that they wheeled the bed in from, pushed the button to activate the door and slipped under it as it noisily rose in the air.

Rico Suave clumsily ran towards Spike with a holler, hitting him in the jaw, Spike punched him back in the stomach and following up with a kick, sendt Rico into the side of the bed. He fell down with a growl, but was back up again, running back at Spike, dark eyes blazing. It was as though he was drunk but strangely strong…the effects of Slayer blood accounting for the latter, the drugs they used to sedate Buffy making him tipsy.

Spike ducked, flipping him over his head, spun around, and stomped down on his neck with his black motorcycle boot. Rico stared up at him, his face covered in sweat, his hands reaching up and grabbing Spike’s ankle.

“Adios, amigo…” Spike said as he drove his stake into his chest, the body bursting into dust beneath his boot.

Gonna roast in here if we don’t get out…

Spike took the stone from his pocket, dropped it in front of him, and stomped on it, instantly turning it to white powder. Hoping that Tara noticed, he turned to look at the office door.

Smoke was beginning to billow into the room as Spike ran over to the bed, Buffy lay there, lifeless, her neck bloody and sore. He noticed that someone had bit her shoulder and her back, and that her eye was also swollen. 

Not playin’ by the rules I see…

Spike ripped at the leather straps, trying to unbuckle them quickly, his fingers fumbling with the buckles in his rush to get her out, but he managed to get them undone. Wrapping the bed sheet around her naked body, Spike swooped her up into his arms and hurried with her towards the garage door.

The garage door led to large storage space, which appeared to be under the club, a storage area for alcohol and food. Hopefully, there was a door to the outside at the end of the L-shaped hallway…

****

Upstairs, the fire alarm had gone off, causing the music to cut off and people to start flooding out of the exit. Giles looked across the room at Tara, who was looking at her palm at her enchanted stone…it had stopped glowing. She turned and nodded back at Giles. 

Tara dug into her purse, pulling out the small, wooden, box. She lifted the clasp and opened the lid, a bright, orange-yellow glow escaping from the box, a beam of light zipping from vampire to vampire…like a deadly game of connect the dots, causing each one to screech out in pain and burst into dust, one after the other. 

“Good morning,” Tara whispered under her breath as her box of sunshine ripped through the vampires in the upstairs of the building, clouds of dust shooting up and falling to the floor one after another.

People screamed and ran for the door as Giles reached Tara. Demons, many who had appeared to have been human before, rushed at them growling. Buffy Bot, a smile on her face and a bounce in her step, beat them back, keeping them away from Tara and Giles.

“Now, now, boys…there’s a little bit of me for everybody,” she teased as she punched a blue-faced demon with red eyes and 3 horns protruding from his forehead, sending him flying into the bar, glasses shattering and raining down onto his limp body.

“We have to get out of here!” Tara yelled. She turned toward the door, watching as a mob of people tried to push out the front door, all at once. Smoke began to waft in through the air vents, rolling out from underneath the door to the downstairs rooms.

“Not that way!” Giles yelled back. He pointed at the emergency exit and guided Tara towards it, pushing people aside as they rushed at them from the left. In the mob’s panic they had completely forgotten about the emergency exit.

Buffy Bot lifted a demon up by his neck and tossed him aside like a trash bag. “Wait for me!” she called and jumped off the top of the bar, onto a table for a split second, flipping over the heads of the crowd and landing safely on her feet. She ran to Giles and Tara, who propped open the exit and began to usher people out.

“Do you think Spike got Buffy out?! The whole basement must be full of smoke…!” Tara yelled to Giles.

Four or five women in nothing but g-strings and bikini tops clomped between them on their high-heels, crying and holding their heads. Their faces were streaked with soot.

Giles blinked, taking a moment to glance at the half-naked dancers, and looked back at Tara.

“I’m sure he did…he broke the charm!”

Tara nodded. Giles grabbed Buffy Bot’s arm in one hand and Tara’s in another, ushering them away from the club and towards his car at the back of the parking lot.

****

Spike turned the corner of the hall and saw another garage door, already open. He hurried towards the moonlight, rushing outside. Looking around him in the dark, he realized they were behind the building. He hurried up the embankment towards the parking lot, which was now full of upset people, and quickly carried Buffy over to Giles’ rented car.

“Get going,” Spike ordered as he laid Buffy’s head on top of Buffy Bot’s lifeless lap, lifted her legs, and slipped into the seat, laying her legs in his lap. Giles gunned the engine and took off down the drive, honking at people standing in the road.

Tara spun around in her seat to look at Buffy, whose dark, brown, hair seemed foreign, her pale skin looking even paler in the moonlight, her eye swollen.

“Is she okay?” Tara asked gently.

“They drugged her up…” Spike answered, his eyes not leaving Buffy. He blinked and grabbed her hand, holding it in his, “She’s lost some blood…”

“We’ll get her home,” Giles answered and yelled out the window with a honk, “Get out of the ruddy road!”

“No,” Spike said, looking up at Giles.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Giles asked with exasperation and honked again.

“You can’t just take her home…” Tara said quietly, looking across the front seat at Giles. Giles looked at Tara and said, his voice hoarse, “She needs to be as far away from here as possible. She-she may need a doctor. There…there might be retaliation…”

“She’s safe,” Spike blurted out, “Okay? She’ll be safe with me.”

Giles glanced briefly over his shoulder at Spike, whose eyes stared back at him, determined…his jaw set.

“What do you plan on doing, Spike? She’s in terrible need of help,” Giles snapped as he broke free of the crowd and sped up the main street, taking the ramp up onto the interstate.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Spike argued.

“Giles,” Tara touched his arm, “I-I think Spike’s right. Buffy…she’s going to need some time to adjust to…to the fact that what she did nearly killed her. She chose all this…she’s going to need to see that it was the wrong choice. You…you can’t just take her home and hope she wakes up to a perfect world.”

Giles blinked back a few tears and stared ahead at the white lines rushing past him. He knew they were right. He could force her to come back to Sunnydale, but what good would that do? Dawn was still gone. Joyce’s house had been sold. Everything she had worked for had disappeared. And what if she still didn’t want to continue as the Slayer? 

I can’t help her…

“Fine. Fine. You take care of her then, Spike. You take…care of her.” Giles whispered in defeat.

“Just worry about Dawn,” Spike answered softly as his thumb stroked Buffy’s wrist.

Tara looked back at Spike, his eyes intent on Buffy’s face. She reached into the back seat and touched his arm. He looked up at her, his blue eyes saddened but hopeful. Tara nodded at him in assurance.

“We’ll take care of it,” she whispered back to him, streetlights passing over her face as Giles sped down the interstate, “I promise.”

The car went silent, their hopes stuck on autopilot as the steady beat of the wheels against the pavement drove them on towards uncertainty.


	3. Chapter 3

Spike picked the lock to Buffy’s apartment, taking only a few minutes to get the door open. He motioned to Giles, who pulled up the drive, headlights off so as not to draw attention to them.

“I’ll take it from here,” Spike whispered, leaning into the backseat to lift Buffy up into his arms. Giles opened his mouth to protest, but Tara reached across the seat and touched his arm, giving him an assuring look.

Giles sighed. “You’ll be in touch then?”

“Yup.” Spike gently backed himself out the door and lifted Buffy up, shutting the door with his boot.

“Spike, if you need anything…anything at all, just call my apartment,” Tara said in a whisper. Spike nodded grimly and carried Buffy up the stairs.

“I don’t approve of this…” Giles mumbled.

“Yes you do,” Tara argued, “Because you know that this is what Buffy would want...”

“What do you mean by that?” Giles glared at Tara in the darkness.

Tara closed her eyes and sighed. “Spike…he’s not going to judge Buffy…”

“Nor would I…” Giles defended himself quickly.

“…he’s going to let her be, but he’s going to watch over her and…”

“And I’m not capable of watching over her? For the love of God, I am her Watcher! It’s part of the title for Chrissakes!” Giles raised his eyebrows, his forehead creasing.

Tara shook her head. “Giles, she doesn’t need a father. She doesn’t need a Watcher. She just needs to BE. And Spike’s the best man for the job. Just…just trust me on this.” Tara took his hand in both of hers and patted it. She whispered to Giles, “He loves her. Let him love her.” Giles blinked in shock and shook his head. Giles looked away, staring into the dark trees beyond the house. He glanced up at the top of the steps, catching a glimpse of Spike’s blonde hair as he ducked into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He looked back at Tara and gave a nod.

“What we can do now for Buffy is get Dawnie home.” Tara let go of Giles’ hand.

“You can stay at my place as long as you need to,” Tara said with a small smile, “And we’ll work on finding you an apartment…you might even get into your old building if you’re lucky.”

Giles nodded and slowly backed down the drive, turning on his headlights when he reached the end. “Lucky…” Giles muttered, “…I’m starting to forget what that is anymore.”

****

Spike pulled at the covers on Buffy’s bed with one hand, pulling them down, then laid her onto the bed. He went to the bathroom and found some rubbing alcohol, some cotton balls, a cold washcloth, band-aids and a tube of medicated salve. 

Silently, Spike gently turned Buffy onto her back. She moaned and he closed his eyes.

Buffy lying on the bed, two vampires sitting on either side, both biting her…

He shook the thought from his mind and slid the sheet that she was wrapped up in from her shoulders and dabbed the sores with rubbing alcohol. Buffy moaned again but he continued to clean the wounds on her back and neck, then dabbed the bite on her shoulder. After he’d cleaned the wounds, he dabbed some salve onto each puncture and covered it with a large band-aid.

Turning her over, he brushed her hair back from her face, touching her cheek, pausing to gaze at her beauty, despite her misery. 

Buffy…God…

He stared at her heavily made-up eyes, the dark eye shadow and liner, the red lips…he blinked and tried to keep with the task at hand, patting her bruised right temple and eye with the cold cloth. She let out a sigh.

He left the cloth on her eye and stood up, looking around the small apartment. The yellowed wallpaper was peeling by the door. The mini-blinds were bent, once white, now yellowed by someone’s smoking habit. He sniffed…smelled like someone had smoked there recently.

He walked over to the door and locked the deadbolt, then slid the chain across into its slider. Turning to look back around the room, he noticed her coat lying on the floor next to the couch.

Spike went over to the jean jacket, picked it up and lifted it to put on the arm of the worn loveseat. 

THUNK.

Frowning, Spike looked down and saw something glinting in the moonlight. Reaching down he clutched the Zippo in his hands, bringing it up to look at it. This was his lighter…the one he thought he’d lost at Buffy’s house. She’d kept it. 

Spike patted the pocket of her jacket and pulled out some cigarettes…Basics. He frowned again.

Another bad habit…smokin,’ luv?

He looked at the woman lying on the bed. In the dark, from further away, she barely resembled Buffy. Her dark hair…he looked back at the lighter and tucked it into his duster pocket, then plopped her jacket onto the arm of the couch.

Sliding out of his coat, he lowered himself onto the loveseat as well, putting his feet up on one arm, resting his head on her coat on the other, then folding his arms back behind his head with a sigh. 

Spike fell asleep that night, staring up at the water-stained ceiling, imagining the prior tenants of Buffy’s apartment. Imagining what they had been running from in order for them to live in the attic of this old house, alone, the yellowing blinds always dimming the sunlight.

****

“Guhhh…”

Bloody zombies. Always tryin’ to get into my crypt. Gonna teach ‘em a lesson, that’s what I’m gonna…

“Fuck.”

Buffy?

Spike opened his eyes and sat up. He wasn’t in his crypt like he thought. Then the previous night’s activities came flooding back to him, actually they hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him in the face as soon as he saw Buffy lying in bed. Buffy, having seen Spike look towards her, slid deep into the covers and turned her face.

Spike got up from the couch, his bare feet padding across the shaggy old carpet. He stretched his arms over his head and ran his hand over his naked chest. Slowly approaching the bed, he heard Buffy stifle a moan into her pillow. Frowning, he stood at the foot of her bed and crossed his arms.

“Buffy.”

Buffy lay perfectly still, eyes open, staring at the kitchen counter. She didn’t blink. Spike took a deep breath and tried again.

“Buffy?”

Nothing.

“Uh, hey. I can make you some uh, breakfast if you feel peckish,” Spike jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he looked down at the foot of the bed, trying not to stare at the woman lying there. The woman he wanted more than anything to just scoop up into his arms and take away from this mess.

Nothing.

Spike swallowed hard. He picked at the blanket, looking away from Buffy, towards the window, the sun hitting the mini blinds…blocked out by the yellowed, plastic, slats. 

We’re both trapped here, luv.

“Buffy,” Spike sat on the corner of the bed. She closed her eyes. “Do you need anything, luv?”

Her green eyes opened. Dark, angry, bruises protruded from streaks of black eyeliner. She pulled the cover tighter around her and croaked, “Go away.”

He nodded and stood up. Glancing back over his shoulder he said sternly, “You’ll need your bandages changed later. And your eye…some ice would help that…”

“GO. AWAY.” Buffy ordered angrily her voice’s weak waiver giving her away as she glared at him, burying her face in her pillow and covering her head with her blanket.

Jaw tight, Spike went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Sighing, he pulled out a bottle of Bud Light and popped the lid off on the side of the counter, with a clink. 

THUD THUD THUD.

Who the bloody hell is coming to call on us at this time of morning…?!

Spike glanced at the clock over the fridge and realized it was more like afternoon. One o’clock in the afternoon. He slid into his boots, leaving the laces for another time, and peeked out through the peep hole in the front door. It was the landlord from the other day.

“Can I help you with something?” Spike called, watching the landlord through the little hole.

“I’d like to speak to Liz,” Harry answered, frowning.

“Buffy is trying to sleep right now…,” Spike snapped.

“This time of day? She’s usually up by now, lemme talk to her,” Harry said, some suspicion in his gruff voice.

“If you’d clean out your ears, you’d have heard me before, the woman is trying to sleep…come back later,” he responded angrily.

“Who the hell are you?” Harry called back through the door, glaring at the peep hole.

“I’m the Gatekeeper, are you the Keymaster?” Spike mumbled, then called to him, “I’m a friend of Buffy’s now could you please just let her sleep? We’re gonna wake her…”

“You’re that white-haired, limey punk from the other day,” Harry growled, shaking his fist.

“And you’re the stinky, red-neck plumber with the beady eyes,” Spike mocked, rolling his eyes, leaning against the door.

This is comical. Entertaining in fact.

“Let him in.”

Spike frowned, and looked over his shoulder. Buffy was sitting up in bed. She brushed her brown hair back from her face, winced in pain, and closed her eyes.

“You can forget that. You’re in no shape to be having afternoon tea with some hick…” he began.

“Let him in.” Buffy opened her eyes and stared at him, her mouth set in a firm line.

Spike stalked over to the couch and pointed at her. “And tell him what? ‘I fell down the stairs?’ Buffy, you look like you’ve been to hell and back, the man’s gonna want a reason.”

Buffy whispered, “I can handle it.”

Spike, feeling defeated, trudged back over to the doorway, angrily slid off the chain, and unlocked the locks on the door. Glancing back over his shoulder at Buffy, his blue eyes ablaze, he flung the door open and hid behind it as the landlord started yelling something about the fire the night before at the club.

“Oh.” Harry shut up and walked into the apartment, looking around for the “white haired, limey punk.” Spike shut the door and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest defensively.

The landlord frowned at him but turned his attention to Buffy, who gave him a forced smile and said weakly, “Heya, Harry.”

Harry hurried around the couch to the side of the bed. “My Lord, girl, what happened to you?!” He shot a look accusingly at Spike, who stared back at him, not moving from his post at the door.

“Got trapped in the club last night…”

“Oh no, Lizzie…” 

“But I got out, uh, got a little trampled in the process,” Buffy let out a small yelp as she shifted her weight, “Uh, William got me out.” She looked over Harry’s shoulder at Spike. At the sound of his real name, his icy stared melted, and he ducked his head, looking down at his boots.

“Well I’m just glad to hear you’re okay. Thought I’d come by today and see if you had been there last night,” Harry turned and looked at Spike. “Uh, thanks for taking care of Liz here. She’s one of the nicest young lady tenants I’ve ever had.”

Spike looked up at him and nodded, walking over to the couch to find his shirt.

“If you need anything…” Harry said quietly, “You let me know. I’ll let you get some rest now.”

“Thanks for checking on me, Harry,” Buffy said to him and he nodded, patting her hand.

Spike quickly pulled his black t-shirt over his head and hurried back over to the door to let the man out. Harry looked at Spike and said quietly, “Sorry…uh…sorry for calling you a punk. You take care of her, William.” 

“Sorry I said you had beady eyes,” Spike answered and patted the man on the shoulder sending him out the door and locking it up again.

Buffy collapsed onto her pillow with a moan. 

“Can I get you something?” Spike asked her again with a sigh of exasperation.

“No,” Buffy snapped.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asked, kicking off his boots again and leaning against the back of the couch, “You’ll feel better if you just cut the martyr act and start taking care of yourself.”

Buffy winced as she leaned over to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and started digging in it for her bottle of tranquilizers. Pulling out the bottle, she twisted the cap and plopped a pill into her hand.

“What the hell is that?” Spike asked quietly as she ignored him, popping the pill into her mouth and swallowing it with one gulp…no water needed.

“I’m taking care of myself,” she retorted and rested her head against her pillow again.

Spike shook his head and found his beer once more, placing it on the coffee table. Plopping down on the couch with a little bounce, he lifted the remote and turned on the television, lowering the volume. “Suit yourself, pet,” he called to her, “I’ll be here when you need me.”

Buffy watched the back of his blonde head as he flipped through the channels. She felt her eyes begin to water up…she wanted to call to him, to ask him to hold her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hide…to pretend that she had never let herself get to this point. She wanted some drugs. She wanted a drink. She did want that drink of water now, but she didn’t want to give in and ask for it. She wanted to disappear again. She felt like she could suffocate right there. Suffocate in her own thoughts…her brain was caving in on her, all the feelings from the last half a year taking over. 

I’m trapped. 

As the tranquilizer took hold, she felt her eyelids droop, tears leaking out onto her cheeks…hitting her pillow silently. Despite the feelings and thoughts whirring about her mind, her body slipped under…succumbing to the medication. She fell asleep, silent tears drying on her cheeks. She didn’t dream.


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn sat outside in the back yard, dutifully watching Davie play in his sandbox, sifting sand over and over again into a bucket, dumping it, and repeating the process quietly. She wanted to scream in boredom and frustration.

How the hell did I get myself in this mess? Did I really need to steal a pleather min-skirt from Hot Topic? Why did I steal those earrings? Why couldn’t I have just gone to school and shut my big mouth?

‘Cause I thought I was being cool. Boy I’m a doof.

Dawn tossed her light brown hair over her shoulder and flipped the page on her notebook, tapping her pen against her lips. It wasn’t as though life at the Klein’s house was so bad. She had a roof over her head, a nice bedroom, and fairly decent food to eat at mealtimes. She only had to clean on Saturdays, baby-sit David while Mrs. Klein cooked dinner…it wasn’t hard.

School was going well. Her grades had improved significantly. She had been failing just about all her subjects back in Sunnydale, and now she was only having trouble with Math…she was getting a B-.

She had made a few friends to talk to at school, saw a few boys that she thought were hot. But she mostly kept to herself, trying not to get too attached to the kids at Kennedy Jr. High. She didn’t intend to be heading to high school with them. She intended on going back to Sunnydale.

No, she didn’t intend to…she would. She knew that she would. How? She had no idea, but she trusted Spike. She’d trusted Spike with her life…so had Buffy. And she trusted Giles. So she just had to hold out and wait and see what they would come up with. Keep doing a fair job at life with the Kleins and with school and pray that they would get her back home as soon as they could.

Davie looked around, found his teddy bear in the grass, propped up against the sandbox, and hugged it to his chest, continuing to shovel sand into his bucket with his free hand. Dawn sighed as she watched her foster brother. He was a good child, despite how quiet he was. She wondered why he had been thrown away. He couldn’t have done what she had done. He was just a little boy.

If only life could be as simple as sitting in the backyard sifting sand into a bucket. Kid stuff was so easy…

“Dawn?”

Mrs. Klein stood in the doorway, a frown on her face. She motioned for her to come to her. Dawn set her notebook on the picnic table and went over to the sliding glass door.

“Come in here, please,” Mrs. Klein’s tone was stern as she slid the door shut behind Dawn.

“What’s wrong?” Dawn asked, looking at the woman’s usually kind face and frowned back at her.

“Where is it, Dawn?” Mrs. Klein crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows.

“Where is what?” Dawn’s eyebrows fell into a ‘v’ as she shook her head.

“Don’t pretend or play stupid. I know you used to steal things…just tell me where you put it,” Mrs. Klein answered her stiffly and without waiting for an answer, grabbed Dawn’s arm.

“Hey!” Dawn yelped as Mrs. Klein ushered her through the living room and up the stairs to her and her husband’s bedroom.

“I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout…” Dawn protested as the woman pointed to the dresser.

“Where is it, Dawn? Did you sell it? I doubt you’d sell it…so where did you hide it? It’s not yours…” Mrs. Klein’s voice became less calm, her eyes darting around the room.

“Where is WHAT? I can’t help you find it if I don’t know what it is…” Dawn snapped.

“Where the hell did you put the gemstone you little thief?!” Mrs. Klein yelled, grabbing Dawn’s other arm and shaking her angrily.

Dawn’s eyes went wide as she glanced from Mrs. Klein, back over to the dresser. Watching Dawn’s reaction, her foster mother said, “See?! You know exactly what I’m talking about…!”

“N-no! I-I mean, I saw it the other day when I was cleaning, but…”

“Where did you put it?!” Mrs. Klein screamed.

“I didn’t do anything with it! I saw it, and I looked at it, but I put it back because I didn’t want to upset anyone!” Dawn yelled back, trying to pull away from Mrs. Klein’s grip.

“You’re a liar!” the woman yelled, her wild eyes piercing Dawn’s.

“I’m not lying! I swear I didn’t do anything with it! I wouldn’t know what to do with it!” Dawn yelled, digging her heels in as Mrs. Klein pulled at her angrily towards the bedroom door.

“I’m going to rip apart your entire bedroom until I find it and then you are out of here, do you hear me?!” Mrs. Klein threatened as she dragged Dawn down the hall to her bedroom.

“Fine! Go ahead! You won’t find anything ‘cause I didn’t take your stupid rock!” Dawn screamed at her, watching as the woman ripped through Dawn’s dresser drawers, tossing out her clothes onto the floor.

“Mommy?”

Mrs. Klein stopped tossing about Dawn’s clothes and turned to look behind her. Dawn placed her hand on Davie’s shoulder as he stared at Mrs. Klein, his eyes worried.

She looked around nervously and rushed over to him, scooping him up into her arms. “Oh honey…”

“Why are you yelling?” he asked quietly, rubbing his eye and holding his teddy bear up to his face.

“I’m sorry dear, I’ll stop yelling now,” she said calmly and looked to Dawn, “This is not finished, young lady. Clean up this mess. No phone. No television. No dinner,” she ordered as she left the room with David, shutting the door behind her.

Dawn stared at her clothes, which lay in a heap on the floor, her dresser drawers askew. She listened as her foster mother descended the stairs…

What the HELL was that all about?

Dawn knelt to pick up her clothes, still shaking from the shock of seeing Mrs. Klein totally lose it, the woman who had never raised her voice before. Something was terribly wrong. That rock was more than just a weird rock…

I need to talk to Giles. I have to find out what that rock is and why Mrs. Klein needs it…and I need to find that stupid rock.

Shakily, Dawn began folding clothes, hoping that Giles would call again soon and that she wouldn’t be grounded when he did. Hoping Mrs. Klein would just leave her alone.

“Just stay the hell away from me…freak,” Dawn mumbled.

 

****

 

Spike heard a loud car pull up outside of the apartment, the engine sputtering then shutting off. She sun had just gone down outside and Buffy had been sleeping soundly for hours. He sat up on the couch and headed for the window, peeking out from the mini-blinds. It was the landlord again.

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered, “Can’t the man just go the hell home and then stay there? His wife must be a shrew of a woman…”

Spike slid on his boots, tying them this time, and quietly went outside to speak to the landlord. Despite his annoyance with the man, he could tell that he truly cared about Buffy and thus couldn’t hate him completely.

Anyway, he needed a favor from him.

“William,” the man greeted him with a nod, “Just here to hook up my boat…” the man nodded towards the small trailer and motor boat parked on the side of the house, “…goin’ fishin’ tomorrow early in the morning.”

Spike nodded and lit up a cigarette. He offered the pack of Marlboro reds to the landlord, who took one and thanked him. The vampire lit the cigarette for the man with his Zippo, then turned it towards his own cigarette, the flash of orange flame illuminating his tired face for a split second as he took in a breath, the cherry of the cigarette glowing red as he inhaled.

“How’s Liz?” Harry blew out some smoke and headed towards his boat, climbed over the side of it and started digging around. Spike followed him to the side of the boat.

“Oh just peachy. Actually she’s fine. Just a bit touchy…” Spike added, “I think she’s feeling bad about getting hurt. She’s not a good patient.”

Harry nodded and pulled out a cooler. “I understand. I don’t like anyone coddling me when I’m sick.”

“Exactly,” Spike agreed. He leaned against the boat and smoked his cigarette, looking around at the trees surrounding the house. “I have to thank you…” Spike mumbled.

“Thank me?” Harry glanced at the vampire and frowned.

“Yeah. Buffy…she’s not acting herself lately. She’s had some bad things happen in her life and instead of dealing she has sort of…well, disappeared. You didn’t take advantage of her so I have to thank you for your that,” Spike said while looking at his boots.

“I have a daughter,” Harry answered, hopping down from the boat with his Rubbermaid cooler in one hand, cigarette in the other. He took a puff of the cigarette and flicked it into the gravel. “I just treated her like I’d expect someone to treat Sheri.”

Spike nodded. He walked with the man back to his car. “I gotta ask you to let her out of her lease, whatever it is.”

Harry looked at Spike. The blonde vampire stood in the moonlight, his blue eyes tired, his head bent. He looked rather pitiful to the landlord, who felt sorry for him. “It’s just a six month…I can do that for Liz,” he responded quietly.

Spike dug in his pocket and held out a wad of money. “Here,” he said, slapping it into Harry’s empty hand, “It’s next month’s rent…”

Harry looked at the money and flipped through it counting it out. “Thank you…” he said to Spike as the blonde-haired vamp turned to climb back up the stairs.

“This just isn’t where she belongs,” said and looked down at Harry, “She’ll be all right. She’s a tough chit.”

Harry gave a small smile. “I don’t know what the hell that is, but I suppose if there is one of them things, that’d be Lizzie.”

Spike snorted with a little smile, gave Harry a nod, and went back in the house. Locking the door behind him, he turned around, stopped, and stared. 

Buffy was standing shakily in front of the nightstand next to the bed, tossing the contents of the drawer onto the floor. Buffy flung the drawer itself onto the bed and fell to her knees, shuffling through the contents, her hands shaking, mumbling and cursing.

Spike ran over to her and grabbed her shoulders. “What the hell are you…?” he began.

“Where is it?! W-wha…?” Buffy ran her hand through her hair and frantically began to sift through the papers, trash, makeup…

“I threw it out.”

Buffy stopped and stared up at Spike, her eyes wild, tears streaming down her face, her breathing ragged. 

How could he do this to me?!

“What do you mean, you threw it out?” Buffy spat. Her eyes darted around frantically.

“I. FLUSHED. IT. DOWN. THE. BLEEDING. TOILET.” Spike repeated forcefully and stared down at her, his eyes glassy. He held back his tears, swallowing hard.

I can’t see her like this…fuck…I can’t do this.

Buffy looked down at her hands, which continued to tremble. She could feel her body wanting…wanting to feel the pain subside. The physical pain from the wounds wasn’t anything compared to the emotional pain from her WOUNDS…from the pain of losing everything and continually falling on her fucking face.  
Releasing a raging, guttural, scream that sounded like a hurt animal, Buffy hauled herself up and away from Spike’s grasp, falling onto her knee, grabbing the back of the couch and pulling herself into a standing position, her naked body trembling as her eyes scanned the apartment.

“It’s a bunch of shit, Buffy. You don’t need fucking rubbish like that to make yourself better…” Spike began quietly, standing up and holding out his hands towards her.

“Don’t you fucking tell me what I need!” Buffy cried out and weakly flung herself from holding the back of the couch to the bathroom door jam. Turning towards the toilet, she fell to her knees and plunged her hands into the bowl, water sloshing about as she felt within the bowl, into the drain. 

Spike rushed up behind her and grabbed her under the arms, trying not to hurt her, pulling her away from the toilet bowl. She howled and kicked, reaching for the toilet, her hands wet and dripping, slipping off the porcelain with a sickening squeak, arms flailing about her as he dragged her away, fingernails scraping against the door jam as he dragged her from the bathroom. 

He kicked the door shut with one foot, fell upon Buffy’s writhing body, and pinned her under his own. He had to keep her from hurting herself.

Breathing hard, Spike held her arms over her head as she wailed and struggled against him angrily. He lay on top of her, wrapping his legs around her thighs to hold them down, holding her as she growled and cried, tried to kick, tried to fight.

“Shhh…luv,” he said over and over again. Buffy spat in his face and cursed him screaming and struggling until she had exhausted herself completely, her body lying limp beneath his, sweat pooled upon her collarbone, running down her forehead, her eye makeup streaks of black tears scarring her cheeks. She cried angrily, her voice hoarse, her breathing a rasp, and turned her face to the side so she wouldn’t have to look at him because she knew he was right.

He loosened his grip on her wrists, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, Buffy…” he whispered and kissed her forehead. She twisted her face even further to the side and said flatly, “I hate you.”

Spike’s jaw twitched, her words cutting deep. He hadn’t expected her to take it personally…he’d expected her to become upset but nothing like this. He’d taken anything alcoholic out of the house, including beer, anything with drugs in it except for some ibuprofen he hid in his coat in case she had a headache or something…he’d even removed Nyquil, knowing it had codeine in it, knowing if she drank enough of it that it could give her a buzz. And he’d started with the cocaine in the drawer…and the tranquilizers.

He’d done it for her. He’d done it because he knew that she was better than that and that if she wanted to go home and go back to her life before this mess she would have to clean up…she’d have to rely on herself to solve her problems instead of masking them in alcohol and drugs.

Slowly, Spike let go of her wrists. She flung her hands up over her face immediately and began to sob into them, her frail, naked, body trembling. He stood up, looking down at the Slayer, the strongest woman he’d ever known…the woman he’d fallen in love with. Watched as she lifted her legs up to her naked breasts, lay on the floor in the fetal position, and bawled like a small child.

And there weren’t any words he could say to comfort her. He could only stay with her.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you ready to do this?” Giles asked Tara, looking at her with a sigh.

“I’ll never be ready. L-let’s just do it,” Tara answered, her eyes set on the door down at the end of the hall.

Willow.

Seconds later they stood in front of that door, glanced at one another for a second, then nodded. They knew they needed to do this. It’s what any good friend would do. They would never forgive themselves if they didn’t try. Didn’t try to get Willow to realize the people she cared for most were the ones she was hurting.

Giles knocked while Tara looked straight ahead, staring at the door, past the door with her feelings, her ex-lover’s aura coming closer…the strength that Willow held, the magical essence that she had developed had grown…and Tara could feel it’s presence through the door, pulsing towards them. She flinched and took one step back. It was not the essence she had known or loved. This was something else. Wrong.

Before Giles could ask her what was bothering her, the door was flung open. Willow, wearing more clothes than the last time Giles had seen her, stood in front of them in a purple sweater with a wide neck that hung loosely off of one shoulder, a jean skirt, and fuzzy blue slippers. She held a spoon in one hand with ice cream on it.

Rolling her eyes at them she stepped aside and motioned for them to come in, staring at Tara as she entered the apartment. Giles entered far enough to be inside the apartment but not too far from the door. Tara stood next to him, staring back at Willow.

What is this…some sort of stare down?

Willow burst out laughing just as Tara thought this, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She pointed at the other witch and smirked. “I like the way you think…” she whispered and smiled at Tara, licking the chocolate ice cream slowly from the spoon.

Tara did not turn away. Somewhere within the increasingly bad Willow was the good Willow, trapped in there…trapped beneath all the things the vain and lustful Willow had been indulging in the past year. Tara drew in a breath and continued to just look at Willow, and pray that she could continue to keep up this act while they were standing there…because her heart was cracking within her chest.

Giles glared at Willow and said menacingly, “I’d appreciate it if while we are here you refrain from digging into our minds…that’s a terrible violation.”

Willow giggled again. “Can it, Rupert. I’ll stay out of your pathetic little brains if you just cut to the chase and then get the hell out of my apartment.” She looked back at Tara and raised her eyebrows at her.

“Willow, we want you to stop using magic. It’s clouding your judgment,” Giles began.

“I don’t think you understand,” Willow cut him off, “That’s just like asking Superman to give up his x-ray powers. Or asking a model to claw her own eyeballs out. Not gonna happen.”

“Will…” Tara spoke up then, the sound of her name from Tara’s lips causing Willow to jump just slightly, “…you do realize that the further into this you get the less of yourself you will be? You’re losing yourself in the magic. It will c-consume you…”

Willow butt in, “You’re just pissed that you couldn’t do what I do now. I’m more powerful than you’ll ever be…and you can’t stand it. Baby…I’m better than you, don’t you see? That’s why we would never work out. I just couldn’t spend the rest of my valuable time with someone so…how should I put this…well, powerless. It get’s dull, baby.”

Tara opened her mouth to speak but Giles jumped into the ring, eyes ablaze. He pointed his finger at Willow and said angrily, “I think you have this all wrong. Alone…you are just as strong as your faith in yourself. And considering the way you are obviously abusing yourself you…you don’t have that kind of faith in yourself anymore. Just cockiness. Y-you were powerful because of the people around you. Alone you are just a miserable child. You need to come down off this high you are on and understand one thing, Willow.”

“And what, dear Watcher, might THAT be?” Willow asked balancing the spoon in mid-air and smiling at him. She licked her ice cream spoon and smiled.

“That we care a great deal about you…so much in fact, that if we must…we will be the ones to bring you down,” Giles whispered.

Willow’s eyes flashed, dark orbs pooling where her pupils would normally float, boiling evil surging within her eyes, the window to one’s soul. The spoon shot through the air, slicing between Giles and Tara, missing their heads by centimeters as it embedded itself within the wall behind them with a crack.

“I don’t take threats in my own home lightly, Ru-pert,” Willow mocked, her voice low, purplish sparks dancing around the tips of her fingers. Tara’s eyes were wide, having never seen Willow act out against Giles.

“That is not a threat, Willow,” Giles answered her calmly, “That is a promise.”

“Get out,” Willow moaned. Giles and Tara stood still for a moment, not knowing what to do next, wanting to help their friend, but also wanting to get away from her all at the same time. Tara felt her heart break within her chest…and anger and fear pool up around it, closing her off from the sadness. Willow, her Willow, was no longer there.

“GET OUT!!!” Willow bellowed as she shot the door open with one quick swish of her hand, her eyes now completely black. Giles grabbed Tara’s arm and led her quickly out the door as Willow slammed it behind them.

“She is worse than I first believed,” Giles whispered as they made their way to the stairwell. Tara felt her body begin to shake, the shock of seeing someone she had cared about so deeply acting like that, taking over her body. Giles hugged her close to him and opened the door to the outside for her.

“What do we do, Giles?” Tara asked, tears in her eyes and added, “She has to be stopped before she does something she regrets…something worse than sticking a spoon into a wall.”

“I’m not sure, Tara. I have to think this one through,” Giles muttered and stared ahead. He had not known the girl he had just confronted back there. This was not the Willow they all knew and loved. This Willow was much more powerful and completely void of any remorse.

“Whatever we have to do…I support it,” Tara said quietly, “I-I want it gone…whatever that was. That wasn’t Willow.”

Giles nodded and unlocked the car. “There’s nothing more we can do from this level. Not tonight. Let’s just go home.”

Tara closed her eyes as they drove through the night. She could still feel Willow’s soft kiss…her touch upon her shoulders. But she could also still feel Willow’s eyes upon her tonight, the aura of evil pulsing through that door. Tara shivered and opened her eyes. 

“Do you want the heater on?” Giles asked quietly and reached for the heater button on the console.

“N-no, thanks,” Tara answered him and hugged herself. This cold was not outside. It was within, and it scared the shit out of her.

****

She had cried herself out and fallen asleep on the floor. Spike had stood above her for an hour as she wailed…not knowing what to do, feeling worthless and stupid. He was scared to try and touch her, for fear of upsetting her further. He didn’t want to talk to her and cause her to lash out at him again. This was different than when they argued while patrolling or called each other names when they were around the others. He could take that, but not this.

He waited until he heard her breathing slow, could sense her heartbeat pump softer…everything slow and easy. He’d had such practice at knowing when someone was asleep. That was the easiest time to…to feed from them. Catch them off guard. Sometimes he felt ashamed, especially when he was with her.

Spike sighed and went over to the bed, picking up the drawer and sliding it back into the small bedside dresser. He straightened the blankets on the bed. Then he picked up all the crap off the floor, and placed it back inside the drawer as quietly as he could.

Gently, he scooped Buffy up into his arms. He held her there, looking at her ruined makeup streaked on her face, her puffy purplish eye bruised. He felt how light her body was…she had lost weight. He held her close to him, kissed her forehead, and took her back over to the bed.

Spike covered her up and went to the bathroom to grab a cloth. He wiped off her face, wiping away the streaks of makeup and tears, wiping away the sweat. There she was…his girl.

Christ, Buffy…why do you fight me? Luv…

He touched her face, now clean but sore looking…her eyes puffy from tears, the right eye purple and bruised. He leaned close to her and kissed her forehead again. “I did it for you, Buffy. I…I didn’t want you to hurt yourself anymore. No more…”

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, could see her wailing on the floor. Felt the fear and pain wash over him. He opened his eyes again and she lay before him, calm, serene. Squeezing her hand in his, he breathed, “You can hate me, luv. But I can never stop…loving you.” 

As Spike quietly left the side of her bed, Buffy’s eyes opened slowly. She watched as he opened the door and sat down on the little landing outside, ran his hands through his blonde hair, which hung in loose, disheveled curls about his head, let out a sigh. She could see the flash of a lighter as he lit a cigarette, see him rub his eyes…was he crying? She couldn’t tell.

I love you.

Buffy watched him through the screen door, through her blurred vision, sore eyes from crying, his outline of dark on dark, barely visible through the wire film…illuminated slightly by the moonlight, a mirage. He didn’t look real to her. He couldn’t be real. Not with love for her like that. She watched him smoke, leaning his head against the porch railing, and wondered when she would be worthy of him…when she could be worthy of that love. She fell asleep watching the mirage of smoke and blackness…an occasional streak of blonde and firelight, watching him from afar, a ghost of what she knew could be.

****

“Good mornin’, sunshine,” Spike said quietly to Buffy as she sat up in bed. He had been sitting on the couch reading the newspaper, but now he was just watching her over his shoulder, paper in both hands.

Buffy tried not to look at him as she sat up and hurried to the restroom, the bed sheet wrapped around her body. Once safely locked away, she stared at her face in the mirror and blinked. It was clean…he had washed her face. She touched her right eye, the bruising had gone down considerably and had lightened. 

Nothing a little concealer couldn’t take care of.

Buffy splashed her face with cold water and wiped it gently with a towel. She brushed her teeth and then her hair, the first time in a few days that she had done so. It felt good, made her feel a little better about herself. Then she remembered what had happened the evening before…and any bit of good she’d felt from cleaning up seemed to seep right out of her.

Taking a deep breath, she ran her hand over her hair, realizing it was filthy, and quickly pulled it into a ponytail. She would have to leave the safety of the bathroom now…and she wished she could just stay there forever. 

I could live in here. It’s a tight squeeze, but I could make it work.

Buffy could still feel the band-aids over her bite wounds, but could tell they were healing. She left them on, figuring she’d shower later and remove them. Dabbing some concealer under her eye and around the temple, she checked her make-up job in the mirror and nodded to herself. It was all right.

She tried to smile a tiny smile to herself in the mirror. The corners of her mouth lifted but she didn’t feel happy. She felt stupid.

Ew…I look creepy and fake. Huh, I wonder if this is how Cordie felt every day at school?

That made her smile for real, a tiny smile but a genuine one.

Huh, I guess I still have it in me…time to go face the world. Or in this case my dirty apartment and one hot, shirtless, vampire.

Spike looked up from his reading and closed the paper, his eyes not leaving her face as she stood near the end of the couch. “Feeling better?” he asked softly, looking at her sheet still tucked under her arms like she was wearing a bath towel at a day spa. 

 

Buffy shrugged and plopped down on the couch next to him. He put the paper aside, and turned towards her. There was an awkward silence. Buffy looked into his blue eyes…he stared back at her. Fidgeting, she looked away and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I told Harry that you won’t be staying here anymore,” Spike said.

Frowning, Buffy looked back over at the vampire, his hair a mess of white curls, his eyes tired. He sat there shirtless, an old pillow on his left, the television remote resting on the arm of the couch. He looked drained but not angry. He looked at the television in front of him with some annoyance and with a flick of the remote, clicked it off.

Buffy swallowed hard, knowing that she never intended to stay living in the attic apartment, but not ready to hear that she had to go back to Sunnydale. She didn’t want to go back. Not without Dawn. Not without their home. 

She couldn’t be the Slayer anymore. Not after what she’d let them do to her. She had become their slave, let them take advantage of her. Shame washed over her in a wave of nausea. She swallowed hard and tried not to think of it.

She didn’t want to lead anymore. She couldn’t take care of herself let alone The Scoobies. She’d already proven that with Dawn. She couldn’t be the Slayer anymore. She wasn’t capable. She wasn’t strong enough. And she didn’t care to put her friends in danger any longer just because she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t quick enough, wasn’t smart enough.

“A penny for your thoughts, luv,” Spike asked softly. 

“Uh…just not sure where I’m supposed to go now,” Buffy said, her voice quiet and weak.

“Giles and Tara have found…they scouted around a bit,” he answered, leaning back onto the pillow, watching her.

“I-I’m not ready to go h…to Sunnydale,” Buffy said quietly, looking at her hands, “I can’t be there without…without Dawn.”

“We’re not going to Sunnydale, at least not right now,” Spike answered her and ran his hand through his hair, “We can’t stay here, either. It’s too close to the club. Anyone out for revenge…they’ll find you if they haven’t found you already,” he glanced up at the door, “So today’s moving day. We pack, we get ready, and tonight we move.”

“It’s all garbage,” she mumbled. Buffy looked up at him, gripping the blanket near her armpit. 

“We’ll take what you want,” he answered, “You’ll need your clothes and stuff.”

Buffy whispered, “Where are…we going?”

“We’re going half way…between here and Sunndyale. It’s closer to Giles and Tara but you don’t have to start Slaying yet…” he glanced over at her watching her stare blankly into her lap, “And when you’re ready, we’ll go home.”

She picked at her fingernails. “H-how are we affording this?”

“Giles and Tara are helping out,” he answered, watching her pick at her nails nervously, “I’ve got the rest under control.”

“I-I can’t go back,” Buffy mumbled, staring at her hands, “I’m not ready…”

Spike reached out and grabbed her hand. “Stop, Buffy.”

She looked up, her eyes scared. Taking both of her hands in his, Spike covered them with his own and gave them a squeeze. He leaned closer to her. “No one is asking you to do anything right now but to just trust me.”

Buffy swallowed hard again and blinked at him, trying not to cry or give in, trying to stay tough and to keep calm. But her brain was a flash of what ifs and worries. The voices screamed at her…taunted her…

You’ll fuck up. You always fuck up. Look at where it landed your sister. Oh wait, you don’t have a sister anymore. You lost her. You don’t have any friends either. Willow is gone and it’s all your fault… you didn’t see it coming sooner. Giles didn’t even want to stick with you because he knew you were a lost cause and now he’s just here to bail you out and as soon as he thinks you’re better again he’ll run off to England again. No one cares even Spike can’t stand this…he’s just waiting for the next chance to fuck you and then he’ll leave you too just like Lucas could fuck your brains out each night if you paid him to. All the men are the same…they just want to look at your body. Spike just wants your body. You need a drink or a drug if you really want to do well in life, Buffy. You need it to take away the pain. You need it to function…you need to flirt and to flaunt and to fuck, too. You can’t fight it. You can’t make yourself the hero they all want you to be…you came back wrong. He said it and you know it. Maybe you were never right to begin with…

“Buffy?” Spike frowned and tilted his head, trying to look into her eyes, which had fell and were staring at the couch between them…lost in thought. 

What is goin’ on inside your pretty head, pet? An’ why won’t you just open up to me?

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Buffy muttered, “I mean, I’m all right here…”

Spike closed his eyes. “Buffy…”

“I can stay here. I don’t really need to go back. Giles and Tara can handle it,” she looked up at him, “You can take care of it.”

“No I can’t. Buffy, you are the Slayer. I’m just a demon with a chip who likes a little side of smash and bash occasionally with his main course. You know that,” Spike argued, still holding her hands in his.

“I want out!” Buffy cried out, shaking her head, her eyes scared. “I want out…”

“There isn’t any ‘out,’ Buffy. You’re the chosen and all that. And you’ll be back to punishing the hell spawn in no time. You just need some time off…time to get back on your feet again,” Spike assured her as she ducked her head, not wanting to look at him. 

If only it were that simple, Spike. If only I cared enough to try.

“You’re just saying that because you know that is what I need to hear. You’re just…” Buffy shook her head and bit her lip.

Spike let go of her and looked away. Buffy ran her hands over her face and let out a sigh. She knew she should trust Spike. She knew he was right and that she couldn’t quit this job of being The Slayer. It wasn’t a choice like working at the bar or pole dancing at the club. It was her calling. She watched him stand up and look around for his t-shirt. 

“Spike…” she whispered.

He looked over at her, holding his shirt in his left hand, rubbing the back of his neck with the other. She watched the muscles in his arms…looked at his chest…remembered what it felt like to be held there, to feel his arms around her, to feel his chest pressed against her. She felt a twinge in her heart.

I just want you to hold me…

“I trust you,” she said, her voice barely audible. She looked up at him, her mouth set into a firm line, her eyes unblinking. She had admitted it out loud now, wanted him to know that she trusted him completely, even if she couldn’t trust her own judgment anymore.

He looked down and didn’t say anything.

Are you just saying that because…that’s what I need to hear, Buffy? 

She watched as he put his shirt on, sat on the arm of the couch and laced his boots. Did he not believe her? It was her turn now to look away.

“I’m gonna need some blood before we skip town. I can’t go out or I’ll turn into floo powder,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door, “I’d hate to ask you…”

“I-I’ll go.” Buffy stood up and went over to a clothes basket near the bed and started digging through it. Spike turned and watched her, the blanket loosening a little, her back exposed to him. He watched her shoulders, looked at her straight back as she pulled out some clothes. He wished he could go over there and run his hands along her back, hold her, comfort her.

She glanced over her shoulder, causing Spike to avert his eyes quickly the other way. He leaned against the couch, looking straight ahead until she turned her back to him again, wrapping the blanket around her waist. He watched as she lifted the tank top up over her head, could just barely catch the curve of one of her breasts…

He turned his back to her and ran his hand through his hair nervously. His body wanted to go to her and make love to her right then and there, but his brain told him to chill out and wait until she was ready for him.

Good God damn…

“Decent yet, luv?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yup.” Buffy walked up to him wearing a tank top without a bra and short jean shorts. She was digging through her wallet, checking it for cash. “Need anything else? Smokes?”

Spike nodded and dug his hand into his jeans pocket for some money to give her. Buffy shook her head and headed for the door, slipping into some flip-flops and unlocking the locks. Rushing up behind her, Spike held the door shut with one hand, hovering next to her, his lips close to hers.

“I do need something else,” he said, his voice dark and smooth.

Buffy looked up at him, her lips parted as he brushed his own against her temple, causing Buffy to close her eyes, her heart thudding in her throat. 

Touch me…touch me…touch me…

Spike touched her face with his hand, running his thumb along her jaw, touching her lips slowly. She leaned into his touch, staring into his blue eyes, not able to look away. He rubbed his nose against hers, his lips brushing hers. She reached up to touch his neck as he began to kiss her, his mouth soft and cool.

God there it is…I’ve missed you so much, luv. 

He pressed her against the door, her chest against his, her nipples hard. His tongue found hers, each one wrestling the other desperately. Buffy ran her hands up into his hair as he held her thigh in his hand, his other hand running over her bare breast, kneading its softness, cupping it gently. 

She sighed, knowing that this is what she’s craved all along. This is what she’d wanted all those nights she’d settled for Lucas, paid him. She’d close her eyes and pretend he was HIM…and now HE was there…

Spike’s tongue swirled hers, plunging deeper into her mouth, wanting. She kissed him back harder, trying to keep up, holding onto him. She ran her hands along his chest, up then back down again, sliding them up under his t-shirt, feeling his abs, the cool, smooth, ripples beneath her warm hands. She wrapped her leg up around his, keeping him close against her, feeling his excited bulge against her inner thigh.

“I need you to trust yourself,” he breathed, taking her lower lip in his mouth, giving it a nibble, laying his forehead against hers.

Buffy, her voice ragged, whispered, “I don’t know if I can…” She kissed his lips and sighed.

“You say you trust me, me of all people,” Spike gave a small laugh, his breath hot on her neck.

“But I do…” Buffy argued, gripping his arms, feeling his muscles, running her leg down his.

“Well then. I trust you…so if you trust me, by default…you have to trust yourself,” Spike joked softly, “You’re trapped in my snare, Slayer.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and smiled, the first time he’d seen her smile since before she’d left Sunnydale. 

God I’ve missed that smile…

“I don’t mind that at all,” she answered softly, her smile fading as quickly as it had showed up.

“I’ve missed you, Buffy. I missed you so bad it ached,” he said then, the words falling from his lips, his eyes tired, sad. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out but he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

Buffy closed her eyes. “I…I haven’t been myself.”

Please don’t do this, Spike. I can’t talk about this mess I’ve made. Not yet.

“So I’ve noticed,” Spike answered, running his hand up and down her arm.

Buffy looked away and said quietly, “I should go get that blood.”

Why…why can’t she say it?

He tried again, “I missed you, Slayer.” 

Silence.

Spike backed away, dropping his hands, his face hurt. He looked down at his feet, rubbing his arm, not understanding why she couldn’t tell him that she missed him too.

Maybe she didn’t give a damn. I spent four months suffering inside without her but she didn’t even think of me…too busy fucking up her own life to even wonder about my pitiful un-life! Maybe I just need to hear this so that I can validate my pathetic love for a woman who can never love me back...?

Buffy quickly opened the door, Spike stepping aside to avoid the direct sunlight. Without another word, Buffy hurried out of the house, closing the door behind her. Spike listened to the sound of her feet padding down the steps, heard the Jeep start up and take off down the driveway.

He leaned against the door, kicking back against it angrily. All he wanted in the world was for her to reciprocate…just give him a crumb of hope that it wasn’t only lust that she felt for him. And all he could get was this game of hot and cold. 

“Fuck,” he moaned in frustration and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Buffy turned off the engine to the Jeep. She wanted to get back to the apartment as quickly as possible, and hopefully without seeing too many people. She felt gross and, as she noted from a glance in the rearview mirror…she looked the part, too.

Locking the door behind her, she slammed it and headed for the butcher’s shop. It was a quiet, little, town, and the butcher, Ray, actually did good business. He only had one other competitor which was the grocery chain further down the street. She liked the little shop and had gone there before for deli meat.

Ray stood behind the counter, his white apron smeared with God knows what bloody substance. Ray apologized and took off his apron, tossing it onto a chair behind the counter. Buffy didn’t cringe. She was used to seeing blood of all kinds.

I’ve seen green blood, mister.

“Ah what can I do for you today, miss?” He asked her and gave her a smile. It was rare that such a young woman came to the butcher’s shop, especially one this pretty. He looked at her face…noticed the bruises…and kept the smile plastered on his face despite his urge to ask her if someone was hurting her.

“I’ll need some pig’s blood please…and a half pound of bacon,” Buffy paused, looked at the sliced turkey and pointed at it through the glass, “Oh and a pound of the deli turkey too.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Ray went to work procuring the different items for her, wondering why a young woman would want pig’s blood of all things. He retrieved some for her, putting it in a medium sized container with a lid, and then went on to getting her the meat.

“Just a question, but I wonder what a lovely lady like you needs with a bucket of pig’s blood?” Ray asked as he weighed her turkey on the scale.

“Oh, I have a little vampire bat actually. Yeah…he’s very hungry. Needs to feed on blood,” Buffy mumbled.

Ray raised an eyebrow. “A vampire bat?”

“Sure. Like the kind you see at the zoo. I had a friend who owned him and gave him to me. I’m not sure where he came from. Anyway, I have to feed him so…pig’s blood does the trick.” Buffy shrugged and flashed Ray a smile.

Quit asking me questions and just get me my damn meat so I can leave.

“That’s quite a thing! I’ve never met a young lady with a bat, much less one that needs blood to live…you aren’t from around here, are you?” Ray asked as he wrapped the turkey in a piece of wax paper, taping it shut and placing it in her grocery bag.

“Nope,” Buffy answered, handing him her money and taking the sack. Ray made change for her from the cash register, eyeing her as he counted out the change into her small hand. 

“You have a nice day,” she answered quickly and rushed out the door before the butcher could attempt to flirt with her anymore…or ask her any more about her “pet.”

She shifted the sack from one hand to the other to open the car, fumbling with her keys and dropping them on the ground with a clink. “Shit,” she muttered to herself. Now she’d have to lay the bag down and bend for the keys…

“Dropped something.”

Buffy swung around, meeting Lucas face first, his eyes staring into Buffy’s, totally void of all feeling. He bent over and retrieved her keys, dangling them in front of her with a smirk.

“T-thanks,” she mumbled and reached for them. Lucas laughed and shook his head, holding them away from her.

“Do you really think you were going to get away with it, Slayer?” he asked her, cocking his head to one side, his brown hair glistening in the sunlight.

“What do you mean?” Buffy forgot about her groceries…feeling her heart skip in her chest.

“You killed Sarafina,” Lucas whispered menacingly, propping himself up against the Jeep, pushing her back up against her car in the process, placing his face inches from hers, “And she was my boss. Y’know what that means? Lemme spell it out for you…I don’t have a job. I don’t have my home base…no drugs are gonna come through that club now that you burned it to the ground. So, as you can see…I’m a tad bit pissed off right now.”

Lucas grabbed her chin in his left hand and dangled the keys with the other. Buffy’s eyes went wide as he opened the car door. “So, we are gonna go for a little joy ride…” he snapped.

Over my dead body…

Despite not having trained in over half a year, despite not having slayed a vampire or otherwise in at least 4 months…Buffy had had it. She knew Lucas was not human. She’d had some idea of this when she had sex with him…

She kicked him hard in the shin and wrenched his arm behind his back. Dropping the keys, Lucas yelled out in pain, and growled, “So you wanna play now, huh?”

“Yeah…I think it’s time we quit with the bump and grind and go straight to the kill and maim…don’t you think, Luke?” Buffy answered through gritted teeth, slamming his head hard against the open car door.

The demon fell to the ground. Buffy kicked off her flip-flop and kicked him with her bare foot. She waited for him, ignoring the pain in her toes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I haven’t got all day. My hot vampire boyfriend is starving for some pig’s blood and I’d hate to keep him waiting. He’s feisty today.” 

Lucas stood up, his eyes red, his face scaly and green. When he spoke, Buffy saw his teeth had extended. All of them were pointy and yellow. She cringed and pointed at his mouth. “Yipes…you’re in dire need of some dental work, bud.”

“Fucking bitch,” he bellowed and rushed at her, his hand out, his nails extended into red claws. Buffy side-stepped him easily, letting his own momentum carry him into the side of the Honda parked next to her Jeep.

His head smacked the passenger’s door with a sickening thud, the car’s alarm going off. Buffy ignored the alarm and skipped up next to him with a smile. “Sucks to be you…I’m out of pain killers.” 

“I’m gonna kill you, and then I’m gonna stake your punk ass boyfriend,” Lucas growled at her, pointing his finger at her and lunging towards her. Buffy punched at him, but he blocked her, knocking her off guard. 

Taking advantage of her imbalance, Lucas pushed her over and jumped on top of her, his claws extended. He raised his hand high and with a smile, and breathed, “Say, ‘goodbye’ Slayer. Oh, and by the way…I’ve had better.”

Buffy’s eyes blurred as the demon’s claws came down at her face. She felt them slice at her cheek as she brought her arm up to block him. Knocking his hand away, she twisted beneath him, her face pounding, the pain excruciating. Angry and hurt, she grabbed his head in both hands and smashed her bleeding face against his, her forehead connecting with his with a sickening thunk.

She could barely hear a woman scream in the background. Buffy had completely forgotten that it was daylight outside…and obviously Lucas didn’t care. 

I’ll just have to teach him a permanent lesson about going all demon-y during the daytime. Humans aren’t much for the scaly and murderous.

“You know what, Lucas? The feeling’s mutual,” Buffy retorted, glaring at him as she jumped up to a standing position, hands in fists, ready. Blood poured from her cheek, the warm trickles running down her neck. She blinked back the pain.

Lucas punched at her, his fist hitting the Slayer directly in the jaw. Her head flew backward, but she was quick to respond with a kick, anger and adrenaline keeping her going. Lucas’ body flew through the air onto the sidewalk in front of the butcher’s. Buffy jumped from one foot to the other, feeling the pain shooting though her bare feet.

What better place to be in for skinning a demon than in a butcher’s shop?

Picking him up and dragging him, Buffy carried him through the sliding doors. Ray, already having heard the commotion out in the parking lot, was on the phone with the police. The screaming woman from outside, continued to scream near the counter.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” Buffy said hoarsely as she slammed Lucas’ face against the countertop, “He’s not too good with the morning after-wooing.”

The demon moaned as Buffy punched him in his neck. Lucas let out a hiss, but Buffy just smiled at him as he clawed at her arm. With a slice, his arm came down and cut her shin, ‘causing a break in her smile, “Can I get a cleaver, anybody?!”

Ray, who had gotten off the phone with the police, shakily handed Buffy a meat cleaver, all the while yelling at her, “What IS that thing?! What the hell IS it?!” as he ran back behind the counter.

Sissy.

“No time for a demonology lesson, Ray,” Buffy answered him and with one swipe, sliced the neck of the demon who screeched and flailed. Seeing he would be hard to hold down, Buffy dragged his bloody body over to the automatic door, shoved his head between the sliding glass and let mechanics do the rest. When the doors closed together, Lucas lost his head.

Nope. I’m not from around here, Ray. And I’m betting you won’t be asking me for my number after this little show.

Dropping the cleaver, Buffy surveyed the damage. There was greenish black blood all over Ray’s checkered linoleum, as well as herself. Her face was burning and she could feel blood running from her cheek but was too afraid to touch it. She looked down at her ankle, which also was bleeding and turned to the store owner.

“Thanks,” she called to him, laying the cleaver on the ground, “Uh, sorry for the mess.”

Ray, his eyes wide, looked from Buffy, to the headless demon in his doorway, which continued to open and close over and over again, getting stuck on the severed head, to the whimpering woman in the fetal position in front of his counter, and back at Buffy. “Yeah…” he whispered back in a daze.

Buffy waited for the door to open and quickly hopped over the body and limped out to her car. She placed her groceries into the passenger’s seat next to her, retrieved her dusty flip-flops from off the ground, found her keys laying on the driver’s seat, and sped out of the butcher’s parking lot before the police could arrive.

Spike’s right…it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.


	7. Chapter 7

Damn kid. Why can’t he babysit himself? Okay, that’s not too likely but really, why have I become Mrs. Klein’s nanny now? Oh, yeah. Right. I discovered her Satanic Christmas ornament that she just happens to hide with her makeup.

Dawn rolled her eyes to herself. Things hadn’t been easy at her foster house since Mrs. Klein had discovered that the weird, red, jewel on her dresser was suddenly gone. Mrs. Klein had relieved Dawn of her cleaning chores, also making their bedroom off limits, and instead had given Dawn full watch over Davie so that she could search each, and every, corner of the house for the jewel…just in case Dawn “hadn’t sold it at school for cash.”

Sigh.

Davie continued his normal afternoon routine, which consisted of sifting sand, little shovel in one hand, bucket planted in front of him, and his teddy bear under his arm. It wasn’t that it was hard to watch him, it was just that that meant she had no time to herself anymore.

What do you mean, Dawn? What time to yourself? Oh. You mean the time in your bedroom where you’d play solitaire with Spike’s cards and wallow in self-pity because you know that you really don’t belong here…?

Just the sound of his name in her head made her swallow hard, made her feel desperately lonely. She thought of Buffy then, wondered if she was okay. How were things in Sunnydale lately?

Dawn watched Davie sift and sift. Dump the bucket. Shovel some more. He seemed happy with that. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had left? Dawn knew the answer right away. She couldn’t be happy here because she did this to herself. It wasn’t some circumstance that was out of her control. No. Her actions, her foolish and childish actions had gotten her here. She had been out of control. Now she was under the control of others with absolutely no control of her own anymore.

Davie dug, his shovel hitting darker sand in the box. Dawn watched him continued to dig and dig…

“You’re gonna hit China there soon, bud.”

Davie ignored her and kept digging, his little face screwed up in determination. Dawn shrugged and watched as he feverishly continued to dig…her eyebrows lowering into a “v.” 

He should have hit the bottom of the damn sandbox by now.

Just as Dawn wondered where the bottom of the sandbox was, something dark spurted up from the large hole Davie had dug. It began to seep up the sand walls of the hole…creeping in and filling the hole with a muddy substance.

“Davie…” Dawn frowned and reached for the hole, dipping her first two fingers in the substance. It was blood.

Before Dawn could say anything, pain shot through the back of her head and she felt herself fall forward. Another shot of pain in her head and everything went black.

****

 

Giles closed the door to Tara’s apartment and hung his jacket on the hook by the door. Tara was cooking, he could smell onion…

“Hey, Giles,” Tara waved to him from around the corner. “I’m making some dinner…”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded and tried to smile. Tara’s own smile disappeared and quickly dropped into a frown.

“What happened?”

Giles shook his head. Tara closed her eyes.

“I guess it’s fairly hard to try and adopt an already placed teenage girl when you are not from her bloodline and you’re a single grown man from a foreign country,” Giles mumbled as he sunk into the couch with a sigh, “Who would’ve thought,” he said sarcastically.

Tara strode over to him and touched his shoulder. “You tried…”

“Yes. Yes, I did but really, what good did it do?” Giles shook his head and took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He held his hand there and said quietly, trying to change the subject, “Spike?”

Tara looked at her feet. She was sure the vampire would take it very hard. Giles was his last hope. She said quietly, “I haven’t heard anything from him yet today. I’ll call him and let him know that you tried...” she patted his arm and added, “I’m sure he is keeping Buffy safe. H-he’ll be good for her, I think.” 

Giles nodded and stared at the blank screen on the television set in front of him, looking absolutely defeated. Tara watched him for a moment and headed into her bedroom feeling lost. How would they be able to help Buffy and Dawn when Giles, who always knew what to do, had also given up? She lifted the phone receiver to her ear and started to dial up Spike at Buffy’s apartment.

****

A Week Later…

Spike slammed down the receiver just as he heard Buffy’s key clicking against the lock. He ran a hand through his white-blonde hair and tried to look calm. He leaned against the kitchen counter facing into the front room and watched the door.

Buffy entered the apartment, arms full of groceries, and tapped the door shut behind her with her foot. Spike rushed around the counter and grabbed the groceries from her with one fell swoop. Rolling her eyes, Buffy smiled and thanked him quietly, throwing her keys onto the little table next to the couch and shaking out of her jacket.

“Any more in the Jeep?” Spike called over his shoulder as he started un-packing the groceries adding.

“Nah. I only bought what I knew I could comfortably carry through two locked doors and up three flights of stairs.” Buffy flopped onto the couch with a sigh and pulled the hairband out of now dyed blonde hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.

“Didja have a good day?” Spike peeped his head up over the door of the fridge.

“Yeah. I shelved poetry books most the afternoon. Oh, and Margaret brought Krispie Crème again for breakfast.” Buffy slipped out of her dress shoes and wiggled her bare toes.

“Are all the librarians painfully dull?” Spike asked, his head in the fridge, his ass poking out from behind the door. Buffy watched his tight, black, jeans hugging his firm rear…and blinked.

“No, Spike. The Children’s Librarian is a roller derby girl,” she answered in correction, “They’re very progressive.”

“They keep eating doughnuts every morning you’ll be the thinnest of the lot,” he answered her with a chuckle.

“I eat them too. I actually ate three of them today,” Buffy answered and sighed, “I suppose my hips will be thanking me later when I’m buying a new pair of jeans.”

Spike folded a paper bag in front of him and looked at her. “You’re going jeans shopping again? I’ll gladly go and um, give you my honest opinion,” he tilted his head a bit and smirked at her.

“With the money I’m making as a library shelver…not likely that I’ll be getting any new jeans anytime soon,” Buffy mumbled and ran her hand through her hair and raised her eyebrows at him, “I’ll make sure you can’t come and ogle…I’ll go during the day.”

Spike pouted his lip. “But don’t you know I am the foremost expert on the way a pair of jeans,” he ran his hands down the front of his pants, “properly hugs the body?” He smiled at her.

“More like the expert of how to get out of a pair of jeans,” Buffy snapped and then closed her eyes realizing she’d just set herself up.

Spike laughed. She opened her eyes and looked at him, his smile. He’d smiled more in the last week since they’d moved here than she’d ever seen him in four years. She wasn’t used to hearing his laugh. Or the way his eyes would sparkle and kind of squint up, or how he’d scratch the back of his head boyishly. 

“I can demonstrate that for you anytime, luv,” he answered her and started to unbuckle his belt.

Buffy shot up from the couch and pointed at him. “Hey now, I was only saying…”

“Gotta watch what you say, Sla-B-Buffy,” Spike stuttered, catching himself. He looked away and tucked the belt back under his belt loop.

“Don’t I know,” she answered and brushed past him to get a can of Coke. 

God, I am a dolt. Don’t call her ‘Slayer’ right now. She doesn’t need that reminder…

Buffy headed over to the sliding glass door and opened it, walking out onto their little deck. She rested her elbows on the railing. They didn’t have any lawn chairs out there yet. Maybe eventually…

How long will we be here, anyway? Why should I worry about lawn chairs?

Spike watched her as he popped the top off a bottle of beer with a bottle opener, the cap clinking as it fell into the trash, a little cloud of cold rolling from the lip of the bottle. He held the bottle to his lips for just a second, long enough to see her run her bare foot up the side of her other leg…

He tilted his head back and swallowed down some beer, felt the cool liquid slide down his throat. He took a deep breath and headed out onto the balcony.

Buffy glanced at him as he rested his back against the rail, taking another sip of his beer. She looked away and back out into the parking lot.

“Everyone here has nice cars,” she mumbled.

“Higher-end apartment than that last one,” Spike answered.

“Yeah…I noticed I don’t have to turn on the hot water in the shower with a wrench any more. That’s a plus,” Buffy answered and gave a little smile, “And my ceiling isn’t leaking so I don’t have to lay out buckets in my living room.”

Spike ran his finger up the condensation on his beer bottle, made a little trail on the dark brown glass. He swallowed hard. “I wanted to tell you the other day,” he looked up at her, his eyes blue waves of clear admiration, “I like…your hair.”

Buffy patted it nervously and shrugged, “I just got tired of the brown…”

“It wasn’t you,” Spike said softly.

She looked down. “No,” she agreed.

Spike swallowed down some more of his beer, listening to the crickets, listening to the sound of Buffy’s heart. It was steady. But every once in a while he could make it speed up. He smiled to himself.

She leaned against the corner of the deck railing to face him and asked quietly, “Spike?”

He looked up from his drink with surprise and stared back at her. If he’d had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. He never knew what she was going to say to him. It was either a moment to cherish or a time to dread.

“I’m sorry I’m not ready,” Buffy whispered, her eyes glittered with tears. She blinked and wiped at her eyes quickly and looked back at him with strength and determination.

Spike shook his head and moved closer to her. “Why would you be sorry?”

Buffy looked away from him, gripping the rail with white knuckles. “I’m supposed to be strong…”

He shook his head again. “You’re not being faulted here, Buffy…”

“I’m at fault though,” Buffy answered him, her shaky hands running through her hair, “Look what I’ve done to myself…to everyone around me.” She looked back at him, “To my sister. To…” she trailed off.

Spike left his beer on the edge of the rail and stepped up to her, his eyes boring into hers, a point to prove. He heard her heart beat stronger in her chest…felt the blood rush through her body. And again, if he’d had a heart, he knew his would have been beating in his ears. But he still felt an energy course between them as he moved his body against her, sliding his hands over her bare shoulders.

“There is no pressure, luv,” he looked into her eyes, “Not for you. You do what you can, when you feel you can.”

Buffy felt a tear slide away from her eyes. He wiped it away quickly with the back of his finger and kissed her, his lips cool against the warmth of her own, his love a tender touch, so light it teased. She could feel his hands slowly move down her sides, pull her close.  
A fog rolled through her mind, cancelling out the day’s events. She couldn’t worry about anything because nothing more existed to worry about. In that moment, she knew what she needed. She knew why she was still alive. She knew that he was right and that only she was her worst enemy. She had fought him and tried to kill him just like she fought herself every day, even when she knew what the end result was going to be. It was inevitable.

As she gripped his t-shirt, held onto him like a child, held onto him like the last bit of hope she had been burying deep within herself for months, a desperation she’d never known…she understood. 

He kissed her softly, his lips dancing over hers, touching her cheek, flitting across her eyelashes. His rich voice whispered in her ear, “They will wait for you,” he looked back into her eyes, “I will wait for you. I always have.”

Buffy’s tears broke free. She allowed herself not to cry out of desperation or addiction. Not to cry out of self-pity. It was solace. It was release. And he understood.

“No one blames you,” he repeated to her over and over again as he held her there, his cool hands running up and down her back soothingly. He breathed her in, could smell her shampoo, her light dab of flowery perfume. Smelled her warmth, could feel the life in her. Usually this was how a vampire hunted his prey, especially at night. They hunted by sight but also by smell and by sound, by the actual feel of it all.

He could become so in tune with the life around him…the blood pulsing through their veins…that he could overpower his victim…but this was so much more different. He could share her life…for just a moment. He could breathe his pointless breath in time with hers and feel her heart beat against his own silent one. He could know her. As his hands held her close, as she held onto him for dear life, he closed his eyes and savored every second like it was their last.

Buffy cried silently, gripping the sleeves of his t-shirt. As panic let go, she loosened her grip. She realized that she would be all right…but she never wanted him to let go of her. She buried her face into the side of his neck, held onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist and prayed.

Please give me strength. Whatever higher power there might be…give me this.

Spike’s strength for her was his comfort, her comfort was his love. She prayed the rest would come with time.


	8. Chapter 8

Ohmigod.

Dawn looked around her…her eyes blurry. She could see that she was in the forested area somewhere behind the house, trees looming overhead. She felt something warm trickling down her neck. She touched the back of her neck and felt the sickening smear of blood pass between her fingers. She rolled off her chest and onto her back and was looking up into the eyes of a monster.

Small, beady, red eyes glared at her, lips human but teeth not so much, a little boy’s chin but not his ears…pointed and hairy. His hair was messy as though he’d just spent the last couple hours playing in a pile of leaves in the back yard…pieces of grass poked from his brown locks. The Davie Devil stared back at Dawn mischievously, and wiggled little red claws at her.

“Wha…what are you?” Dawn asked him, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. She had seen enough carnage and death to know that panicking would surely lead to a bad ending for her.

Davie growled and lashed out at her, claws ripping at her face. Dawn screamed and pulled at his little torso, trying to toss him aside, but she couldn’t match the demon’s strength. It was like trying to dislodge a feral cat from her leg.

Dawn continued to scream as she flung herself to the ground, trying to knock Davie from her body as he clawed at her neck and chest. She rolled on the ground with him, hitting him against the grass and pushing at his mouth full of teeth, not wanting him to bite her as well.

He growled in another language, his voice octaves lower than a normal five-year-old’s should be, his anger evident despite the language barrier. Thrashing about he tried to get out from Dawn’s weight, but in that respect, she had the advantage and she used it, laying on top of him and overpowering him, getting his claws tucked beneath him, holding down his arms and kneeling on his legs.

Breathing hard, long brown hair in her face, blood trickling from cuts across her cheeks and neck, Dawn smiled at the little demon. “Sorry to disappoint you baby Gremlin, but you’re fucking with the ticked-off sister of The Slayer.”

Davie squealed like a pig caught in a trap. Dawn looked around, not knowing how long she could hold the flailing demon child…not seeing anything she could tie the kid up with either. 

“I could really use Buffy right about now,” she grunted as she dug her knees deeper into the child’s legs to hold him still.

Holding Davie as tight as she could with one side of her body, Dawn started picking at the knot in his tennis shoe. She got the loop and knot un-done and unlaced the shoe slowly, the demon boy kicking at her. She looked back up at his twisted face, his eyes red and speckled with gold, his tongue lashing out at her.

“Sorry kid,” she spat and punched him with her free hand, knocking him out.

Working quickly, Dawn got his laces out of his shoe and began working to untie the other one. As she was beginning to tie up his ankles, Mrs. Klein came running into the trees. Racing up to Dawn, she yelled, “Get away from him!”

Dawn backed away and snapped, “Oh I see, no, ‘How are you today, Dawn? Been mauled by your demon foster brother lately?’” She held her head and winced in pain, glaring back at her foster mother.

Mrs. Klein looked around frantically and grabbed the boy’s teddy bear. Squishing it between her fingers, her eyes went wide. She felt around the seam in the back of the bear and pulled out the red and gold-flecked stone. She glanced up at Dawn, who stared back at her angrily.

“Huh…there it is. Looks like I’m not the only thief in the family,” Dawn said icily.

Mrs. Klein handed Dawn the stone and whispered, “Take this back to the house. Put it in a box and hide it in the basement. I’ll explain when I get back.”

Dawn took the stone in her hand and hesitated. She’d already been accused of taking this damn thing. Did she really want to have any more responsibility for it? Mrs. Klein yelled at her, her eyes wild, “GO NOW!”

Nodding, Dawn rushed out of the trees, back towards the direction that Mrs. Klein had come from. She reached the back yard and made a beeline for the house. Flinging open cupboards in the kitchen, Dawn found a Ziploc storage container then a towel. She placed the stone in the kitchen towel and popped the top on the container.

Flicking on the light to the basement, Dawn made her way downstairs. Avoiding the finished part of the basement that served as a den, Dawn headed for the laundry room. Grabbing a foot stool, she stepped up it and climbed on top of the washer, looking for a high up place to hide the stone. Finding a beam that would work, Dawn stood up on the washing machine and hid the container on top of it.

Sitting down on the washer, Dawn felt all her energy drain. She slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. All she could see was home. All she could feel was Buffy’s arms around her. All she wanted was to hear was his voice. Hear Spike assure her that it’d be okay. They had been able to save her from being used to open a portal to hell…but they couldn’t save her from this?

“I ended up in hell anyway,” Dawn whispered sadly to herself. She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.

 

****

 

“Hel-lo Oakdale. Lovely night we’re having isn’t it? Not really, right? If you’re up this bloody late listening to me prattle on then you’re obviously deranged or most likely stuck at a night job. Sucks to be you. Sucks to be me. So why not just embrace the shitty life you’ve got? Sit back and embrace that inner anger you’ve got boilin’ in your body. Girlfriend’s an ice cube with legs…you’re not alone. Boss is a wanker? Yeah, I’d comment on that but then I wouldn’t have a job, would I? ‘Nuff said. Here’s something to get you on the right track. It’s Seattle’s finest…Mr. Cobain and Nirvana from their first record Bleach… “Floyd the Barber.”’

Spike hit a button and sent the sound of grunge rock flow into the radio booth. Taking off his headphones, he leaned back against the cushioned chair and looked at the clock. Only 2:24 a.m. 

Bullocks.

It was better than most jobs he’d had. As a young man, he’d been commissioned to help the school master with chores after school and of course his mother had encouraged it. That’d sucked rocks. Not only did he have to clean the ink wells, he usually ended up having to serve the bastard tea and then sit there and listen to him blather on about his wife and his children…

And of course he’d tried the night shift at the Go-Mart in Altoona, Iowa. That had been a joy. Instead of stealing to make some money, he’d taken a job across the way from an amusement park as the gas station attendant. He had figured, he’d just hang out in the gas station long enough to scope out some walking Happy Meals and take ‘em in the back and…yeah. It’d worked for a while. So many people to choose from…

Spike blinked. Looking over his shoulder at the door, he pulled his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it, lighting up a cigarette. His boss at the radio station didn’t want him smoking in there. But Spike wasn’t about to start following rules now.

Taking a long drag on his cigarette, he blew out the smoke and put his headphones back on his head. The phone hadn’t rung all night, which was a good thing. He didn’t care to play love songs for love struck teeny boppers and he didn’t care what anyone had to say about his choice in music. 

Spike blew some smoke out away from the mic and said in a low voice, “That was Nirvana and “Floyd the Barber.” I’m feeling anti-social tonight. Isn’t that a shame? You don’t give a shit, I know. So…I’m thinking non-stop, no commercials, un-interrupted, punk rock. What do y’all think of that? Oh, you don’t care? ‘Kay.”

Spike hit a button and the sound of a nasal, angry, man whining over a thumping bass rhythm poured into the booth. The punk band was called The Crucifucks. Spike smirked as the lead singer sneered, “You’re pathetic…you’re disgusting…you’re pathetic. You make me sick. I estimated your worth today--you’re shit.”

He chuckled. Who would have thought that he’d be sitting here, working in a radio station spinning strange music all night long instead of fighting demons and vampires? More so, who would have thought he’d be fighting vampires and demons rather than killing humans…draining slayers? Heck…would have thought HE would become a vampire in the first damn place?

Spike’s smile dissipated. He took a last drag on his cigarette and smashed it out on the console. Plopping the butt into an old Coke can, he swiped his hand across the ash on the console and reached under the desk for his trusty bottle of Febreeze. Spinning in his chair, Spike sprayed the fragrance into the air, watching the liquid drops fall towards the ground.

Such is life.

 

****

Buffy grunted, sweat pouring down her face, her heart thumping in her chest as she pushed up. Her arms held her in a push-up, took her back down quickly and back up again, her breathing in time with her motions. 

Putting one arm behind her back, she pushed up again. It was harder than it used to be. It had been a long time since she’d cared enough…since she’d tried. Shakily holding the upward motion as long as she could, Buffy slowly lowered herself again.

“Two-fifty,” she gasped as her body hit the carpet. The moonlight shone from the curtains, stripes of light cascading across the gray carpet. She lifted herself up onto her elbows and rolled onto her back. Buffy pretended she was making snow angels.

Angel.

He never contacted her anymore. Not unless it was necessary, necessary to the well being of mankind or some extremely important thing like that, necessary to his job. 

She was no longer important to him unless she could help him take care of some mess or another. He never asked her how she was really…just asked for what she could do to help him.

Buffy closed her eyes and focused her energy, focused on her body. She allowed her muscles to loosen…felt her arms go limp, imagined her shoulders less tight. Imagined them floating…they relaxed. Moving to her heart…she focused on its beating. Fast, pattering against the inside of her chest. Then slower…slower…slow. She felt the focus moving into her legs…felt them loosen and float with the rest of her body. Float into the nothing. But in the nothing she saw something. Saw what she needed to fight for. 

There was Dawn. Her face wasn’t covered in makeup anymore. This was the sister she knew and loved. God, she missed her. And with her stood her mother. Joyce smiled back at Buffy. Buffy knew it was just a memory…but a beautiful memory anyway.

The door opened to her house and there was Willow who beamed from ear to ear, her smile radiant as she pulled Tara through the door. They waved and Tara kissed Willow’s cheek. Joyce turned to speak to Willow and Dawn ran over to the door and called to someone.

Xander, arms full of board games, stumbled in, Anya walked in holding a pizza and calling over to Buffy. Anya mumbled something about Xander not being able to make his mind up between Scrabble and Sorry so they brought them both along with Monopoly because Anya wanted to be the banker. Joyce told Dawn to call ‘Mr. Giles’ and Dawn immediately grabbed the cordless and invited him over.

Soon, they were all gathered around the table, pulling out ooey, gooey, cheesy, pieces of Forrello’s pizza from the cardboard box, laughing and cracking jokes. Buffy looked around her and felt whole. She felt warmth flow through her body. She was happy. Safe.

There was a bump from the kitchen. Buffy told everyone to stay seated. She’d check on it. Walking into the kitchen she found Spike, standing alone in the corner in the dark.

She’d asked him why the hell he was standing in her kitchen. He’d sarcastically told her he’d needed to borrow a cup of sugar and had crossed his arms in front of his chest in defense, his jaw jutting out in defiance. She’d sighed and rolled her eyes, glaring at him.

Spike.

He’d asked if he smelled pizza. She’d snapped at him and said that it was all gone and added that he didn’t need to eat anyway. He’d ignored her and strode past her into the dining room. “I like pizza. So sue me.”

She observed the scene before her. A former school librarian, her Watcher, talking about the history of pizza with Willow. Her mother welcoming a vampire into their living room and asking him if he’d like some soda. Her sister rushing over to him, giving him a warm hug. The vampire hugging her back and asking her how her day was at school.

Who would have thought…

“Buffy?”

Buffy stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She groaned, her back stiff. Spike hung over her, his hand touching her bare arm.

Shit. I fell asleep on the floor.

“You okay, pet?” He frowned.

“Yeah,” Buffy held onto his wrists as he helped pull her up, “What time is it?”

“Four in the morning.” 

She noticed he was wearing his coat and that the sun hadn’t started to glow through the curtains yet. Sighing, Buffy stood up and rubbed her neck. “I must’ve fallen asleep…”

Spike watched her go towards the bedroom and looked at his feet. He wished he could follow her. Sitting on the arm of the couch he looked around the dark apartment. Listening to her running the water in the bathroom, Spike shrugged out of his jacket and flung it over the back of the nearby recliner. Watching it rock back and forth, he unbuckled his belt and tossed it on the floor, then pulled his t-shirt up and over his head. He heard the toilet flush as he kicked off his boots and fell back onto the couch, his pillow right where he’d left it the night before.

Buffy turned off the light to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of her face in the mirror as the light disappeared. She looked tired. Turning from the bathroom, she padded over to the dresser and pulled out her favorite night shirt and stripped of her clothing, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor, pulling on the nightshirt over her head, letting it fall over her naked breasts. The coolness of the fabric against her body made her shiver.

Listening to the sound of the clock on her night stand, she sat on the edge of the bed. She could hear Spike move on the couch, hear him sigh. Then it was silent again, except for the sound of the clock’s ticks bouncing off the bathroom tile.


	9. Chapter 9

She’d fallen asleep on the floor next to the washer.

“Ouch,” Dawn mumbled as she rubbed her neck. She’d been sleeping sitting up against the concrete wall and her body was paying for it. Pain shot through her neck and back as she leaned away from the wall, wincing.

As she rubbed her neck with one hand, she looked at her other hand. Blood was dried under her nails. Her blouse was ripped where Davie had slashed at her with his claws. Her face stung where he’d swiped at her.

Upstairs, Dawn heard screaming. Grabbing a mop as a weapon, she slowly made her way towards the bottom of the staircase and paused to listen to the yelling.

“You should know better!” Mr. Klein yelled angrily.

“I didn’t expect a child of five years…” Mrs. Klein began.

“He’s NOT a child! I thought we agreed on that when we took him in! He’s human, yes, but not all the time. We have to remember he is half demon. He’s half DEMON!” Mr. Klein preached to his wife.

“I understand that. Of all people, don’t you think I understand that?” Mrs. Klein asked, pain tinged in her voice as she snapped at her husband.

“Obviously, you forgot,” he snapped at her.

There was a pause. Mrs. Klein’s voice whispered steadily, “And now what do we do about Dawn?”

Mr. Klein answered quickly, “We explain to her what is happening. We already know that her sister is The Slayer. She has to have seen some things…she must understand that we aren’t the only ones living on this Earth.”

Dawn’s eyes grew wide. She swallowed hard and slowly sat down on the bottom stair, gripping the mop with both hands.

“He clawed her up…” Mrs. Klein said, her voice cracking. Dawn heard her sob.

“You need to go take care of her,” her husband answered and added, “She’ll understand when you explain.”

Dawn didn’t hear anything after that. Putting the mop down, Dawn sat on the bottom of the stairs, not knowing what to do next. She knew now that David was a demon. Obviously, her foster parents were aware of this. Obviously, the stone had something to do with his becoming all growly and crazy. So now what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t continue to live in a house with a killer demon child. She couldn’t go anywhere else…

“Dawn?”

Mrs. Klein stood at the top of the stairs, holding a first aid kit and staring down at the girl with worried eyes.

Dawn glanced over her sore shoulder but quickly looked away. How could this woman take in a demon and put them all in danger? Didn’t she understand how dangerous it was? And of course she still hadn’t apologized to Dawn for calling her a thief.

“Dawn, dear…I have a lot to explain to you,” Mrs. Klein said as she descended the stairs. She sat next to her on the bottom step and opened the first aid kit.

“Yeah, you sure do,” Dawn answered icily and scooted away from her.

“Davie is a demon,” Mrs. Klein began. 

Dawn interrupted with a snort and snapped, “Oh gee, you think so?” She shook her head and hugged herself.

Mrs. Klein dipped a cotton swap with alcohol and reached towards Dawn’s face. Dawn glared at her and dipped her head away. Mrs. Klein lowered her hand and looked away, ashamed.

“My sister. Y-you know about Buffy,” Dawn said quietly.

Mrs. Klein nodded. “I…I know who she is, yes. I knew from the very beginning that your sister was The Slayer. Just…just as I knew that Davie was part demon.”

“Only part, huh,” Dawn mumbled.

“His mother was human…his father was not. She gave him up for adoption and no one would take him. No one but us,” Mrs. Klein said and put the rubbing alcohol away.

“So why do you take Slayers’ sisters and half demon kids?” Dawn asked, glancing at her foster mother but quickly looking away.

“I…I’m a demonologist,” Mrs. Klein answered, looking at Dawn, wanting her to understand. “I felt that I could offer something better than death for children of demon background.”

“And how the hell do I fit in here?” Dawn mumbled.

“The adoption agency goes to place a child. But within the agency are those of us who know about the reality of Sunnydale. That it’s a Hellmouth. That it produces demon spawn. Those within the system work to get the child placed with the proper caregiver…the men and women like me who know how to take care of these kids. You…are not a demon, I know. But you are the sister of The Slayer. The Chosen One. You aren’t just any normal child. The things you must have seen or have known…”

“You don’t know what I’ve seen,” Dawn whispered icily.

“No, no I don’t,” Mrs. Klein answered her, “Nor do I think your sister was given the benefit of the doubt. Dawn…she has a huge load to carry. The problem is…no one knows what she is. And unfortunately, you weren’t doing your best to help her from what I have read, from what your social worker has told me.”

Dawn looked at her bloody hands. “I know that…I know that now.”

“Dawn, I want to get you back to your sister. You understand that, right? I know that you are a good kid…,” she began.

“So why don’t you do something?” Dawn turned and looked at her, her eyes watering over with tears.

“I-I can try,” she answered. Tilting her head slightly, her eyes sad, she pointed at Dawn’s cuts, “I want to help you. But you have to continue to make the effort to help yourself.”

Dawn closed her eyes and nodded. “I know.”

She allowed her foster mother to dab her face with the moistened swab. Wincing, Dawn asked her how come Davie turned feral and what that stone had to do with it.

“The stone is a lava rock…the gem within is a mystery. I guess the dimension from which David’s father is from, from where his demon father is from, has these stones from their volcanoes. His mother gave me specific instructions to keep the stone…but not to allow him to be exposed to it. Having read up on it, what little is available on this dimension, I realize that David can contact his parents with this stone. There are spells that he may cast speaking with his native tongue and that is why his mother didn’t want me to dispose of the stone. I guess I took for granted that a five-year-old wouldn’t pay attention to…”

“He knows. He might not know what that thing does…but he was attracted to it. His body knew it belonged to him,” Dawn whispered.

Mrs. Klein nodded. “I understand that now. I need to put it out of this house. I cannot make the decision for him, whether he decided to embrace his demon side. That is up to him. And when he is older I intended to try and tell him about it. I am hoping to keep him here. Keep him from being adopted by another demonologist or Watcher,” Mrs. Klein added.

“My sister Buffy used to have a Watcher, Mr. Giles. Rupert Giles,” Dawn added quickly and said with hope in her voice, her tone lightening, “Do you know him?”

Mrs. Klein nodded. “I don’t know him personally but of course I’ve heard of him. He’s very efficient, very knowledgeable. He is highly respected among our community. He’s well versed in the study of magic. But he is known most for being your sister’s Watcher.”

“He’s also extremely fond of playing Sorry and he kind of likes The Who,” Dawn added, scrunching up her nose, “Could…could Giles adopt me?”

“Dawn…is Mr. Giles married?”

“Well no…”

“Then it’s very unlikely they’ll give a teenage girl over to a middle-aged, single, man from England.”

Dawn looked at her hands. Mrs. Klein wiped her face with a cool cloth and said, “I will do whatever I can, as long as you continue to work with me. You do realize that what you did was wrong, the things you stole and all the things you did before you left Sunnydale, right?”

Looking directly at Mrs. Klein, her eyes filled with tears, she nodded. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I felt like Buffy was too busy for me…”

“She’s always going to be The Slayer, Dawn. But you only make things worse when you act out. She can’t focus any better with you stealing and skipping school. You have to understand. No matter how normal your sister plays it when she’s at home or with her friends…her life is extremely complicated. You can’t treat her like a sister with a regular job. She’s a woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders. And your job, as her sister, is to make sure that she can continue to do her job,” Mrs. Klein advised.

Dawn began to cry. “But Buffy forgot who I was. She acted like I wasn’t even there...”

Leaning to hug Dawn, Mrs. Klein took her into her arms. “And that was wrong of her. You both missed the train. You have to communicate better or it will always fail, Dawn. But acting out will just end up hurting everyone…not helping anything. David is sedated. I cast a binding spell on him and since the gem has been removed and he’s only been exposed for a brief time, he should return to normal soon. He can’t hurt you, and he didn’t mean to,” she whispered to Dawn.”

Dawn cried into Mrs. Klein’s shoulder as she stroked Dawn’s light brown hair. She knew that this woman was right. She was relieved that she understood who Buffy was, could sort of understand the situation. She just hoped that she would be able to help her get back home. All she wanted was to go home.

Dawn nodded and rested her head on the woman’s shoulder and said quietly, “I just want to go home.”

Mrs. Klein nodded. “I understand, hon. I will do whatever I can do to help you…okay?”

Dawn nodded and closed her eyes, the burning of her cheek and her neck fading away as she slowly drifted back into an exhausted sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

I was upset you see   
Almost all the time  
You used to be a stranger  
Now you are mine

I wouldn't even trust you  
I've not got much to give  
We're dealing in the limits  
And we don't know who with  
You may think that I'm out of hand  
That I'm naive, I'll understand  
On this occasion, it's not true   
Look at me, I'm not you

I would like a place I could call my own  
Have a conversation on the telephone  
Wake up every day that would be a start  
I would not complain of my wounded heart

I was a short fuse   
Burning all the time  
You were a complete stranger  
Now you are mine…

*Song lyrics from the song “Regret” by New Order

 

***11***

 

It’s been a bloody long time since I just lay in a bed…and stared at the ceiling without any thought of killing anyone.

I used to contemplate my next move. Used to think about what I wanted. What I needed to do to get to the next point. Like plotting points on a map or what all. Who would I need to kill in order to get what I needed tomorrow?

Used to think about killing The Slayer. Dreamed of how I’d snap her neck and drink deep of her blood. Now I’m lyin’ next to her and wondering how to breathe her in…how to take in every moment with her and suck it dry...every glorious moment.

Oh, and did I mention that I’m scared sodding shitless? Yeah, there’s that part too.

Spike rolled onto his side and looked at Buffy, her blonde hair covering one eye as she slept soundly. He’d carried her off to bed and when he’d motioned towards the door she had held onto him and shook her head no.

Of course, he’d stayed. He’d spent most of the night watching her sleep, too afraid to fall asleep himself. Afraid he’d wake up and discover that it had all been a cruel dream.

This is what you wanted, mate. This is what you dreamed about in your sleep, what you lived for while you were awake. Knowing you couldn’t have her nearly killed you. You would watch her and it would grind at your dead heart knowing that she couldn’t be yours. That she’d never be yours…

Now what the hell do I do?

****

“Davie?” 

The little boy looked up, his eyes no longer demonic, just sad. Dawn sat down on the floor next to him and patted his teddy bear on the head. He had propped Teddy up next to the leg of the bed and had lined up his matchbox cars along the edge of the throw rug.

He nodded at her in acknowledgment and clutched the bear to himself protectively. Dawn pointed at the little green Volkswagen he had lined up next to the Dukes of Hazzard’s General Lee.

“Is that your Slug Bug?” Dawn asked him gently and he nodded at her, “Y’know when you see a Slug Bug, you need to give the person next to you a little knock on the shoulder, like this…”

Dawn put her hand into a fist and tapped Davie on the shoulder. “Then you say the color of the Slug Bug.”

Davie blinked at her and nodded. Dawn smiled at him and added, “You can try it on me next time we’re in the car and you see one…how’s that?”

He nodded and gave her a small smile. Dawn ruffled his hair. “How are you feeling today, bud?”

Davie shrugged and said quietly, “Okay.”

“That’s good,” Dawn said and stood up telling Davie, “Mom…” she paused, “Uh, has dinner ready for us. It’s time to come downstairs.”

Davie nodded and stood up, tucking his bear under his arm and walking over to Dawn. He reached his hand up to hers and tapped her fingers with his. Dawn smiled at him and took his hand and led him downstairs for some meatloaf.

****

There was nothing. 

Darkness had engulfed everything. Where there had been light there was nothing. And she was sucked back into it…

Then there was a sensation. She could feel her arms and her legs, feel her lungs and her heart…it was pumping now. Her eyes…they could open and close. She blinked them. She was still in the dark…

Help me. Oh God. Help me!

But then she realized she was just in her coffin again. Sighing to herself, she rolled her eyes and despite not being able to see, she clawed at the coffin lid, ripping the satin and breaking through the polished wood, digging with long nails towards the surface. 

Sheesh, didn’t she have this dream enough to know how this went by now? She brushed the dirt off herself, fingered a piece of her brittle, long, brownish hair in one bloody finger and blinked through the haze, knowing her eyes would adjust eventually.

Stumbling through the cemetery she headed towards his crypt. Yeah, she knew that that wasn’t what she’d actually done but this was her dream, right? And so she stumbled, cursing as she stubbed her toe on a low headstone.

The door was open. It always was in this dream. She’d come there so many times. She’d known he would know what to do for her once he got past the initial shock. Help her see. Get her clean. And there he was, his eyes intensely searching hers…every time she had this dream he forgot that she’d come back so he always seemed newly shocked that she was alive.

“Spike…it’s me again.”

“B-Buffy? You’re…” He pointed at her with a shaky finger.

“Yeah, we went over this last time…let’s just get to it already.”

Spike frowned and whispered, “What last time, pet?”

He never could remember this dream. It was just hers. That must be why he couldn’t remember that he’d already helped her here a million times before in the same dream on other nights.

Buffy reached for his arm and led him downstairs and asked him if she could use his makeshift pipe shower again to get clean and of course he said ‘yes’ because, why wouldn’t he? He said that every time she dreamed this dream.

Warmth flowed over her body, water pouring down from the broken pipe, rigged with a clamp. The water was warm. She touched herself as the water poured over her. She knew was alive…felt the warmth flow all through her body. But this feeling was different. This wasn’t the norm. Usually the water in the dream was cold. This dream usually ended with her leaving without thanking him and rushing off to kill something…but this time he was watching her shower…

“Spiiike…”

“S-Spike…” she whispered.

He slipped his hands up over her hip bones as his lips kissed the inside of her thigh. He ran his hands up and down her upper leg, his tongue slowly sliding between her them, finding her warmth…slowly caressing her, sucking her in, then flicking his tongue against her and diving in again.

“Spike…” she breathed as she realized she wasn’t dreaming that rotten dream anymore. She reached under the cover and felt his curly hair beneath her fingers as his head moved between her legs. She spread them apart a little more and reached up, touching the headboard and closing her eyes with a sigh.

He reached his hands under her ass and lifted her up, closer to him. Bending her knees Buffy grasped at the headboard and moaned as his fingers were within her, slowly working in and out, two at a time. Buffy gasped as she slowly moved against his fingers, thrusting downward and up…

“S-Spii..” she cut herself short and whispered softly, “William.”

There was a pause in motion but with one swift stroke his fingers left her again replaced by his tongue which dove deeply within her, surging, his hands grasping at her legs. Buffy let out a breath and felt her legs begin to shake…her insides star to flutter with intense heat, her legs give way to the spasm, and become limp in seconds as she floated above herself, behind her closed eyelids, light dancing before her eyes. And she was alive.

****

Two Days Later…

“Dawn, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Schafer. She’s the woman who is handling your case,” Mrs. Klein said and motioned for Dawn to sit down in front of Mrs. Schafer’s desk. Dawn nodded at the woman and sat down.

Mrs. Schafer, a kind looking African American woman with large brown eyes and upswept hair gave Dawn a small nod back and opened a manila file folder.

“I hear you’re making quite a few improvements at the Kleins’ house,” Mrs. Schafer said as she browsed at the contents of the office folder, “Going to classes, learning responsibility…I hear you take care of your younger housemate…”

Dawn nodded and said quietly, “Yeah, I watch Davie whenever Mrs. Klein needs me to.”

“And you bounced right back from that demon attack,” Mrs. Schafer added, looking up at Dawn over the top of the file with raised eyebrows.

“The WHA…uh, I um,” Dawn began to stutter and stared wildly from Mrs. Schafer back to Mrs. Klein grasped the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white.

Mrs. Klein let out a little laugh. “It’s okay, Dawn. She understands…she’s one of us.”

Dawn stared at Mrs. Schafer, whose eyes flashed and turned a darker shade of brown, her irises gelling like a lava lamp until the color had churned into a deep black. She blinked and they resumed their regular brown color and shape. Dawn gulped.

“Dawn, I know about your past. I know who your sister is. I know all about David and his background. Mrs. Klein tells me that she told you she is a demonologist…right? Well, I’m one of her contacts within the social services.” 

Dawn let out a breath but continued to clutch the arms of her chair uneasily. “I-I…I’m not used to being around so many people who understand…”

Mrs. Schafer smiled, “Now you got a tiny glimpse of what it’s like to be me…a demon. No one ever understands. We’re not all blood and gore. My people are simple shifters…we can change into whatever object, living or non-living we choose. We can also bend time,” she shrugged as though it was just a simple task like brushing your teeth, “But that doesn’t mean I want to eat your children or send Sunnydale up in a ball of flames. Not today anyway.”

Dawn let out a nervous laugh and mumbled, “Some days I wish that were possible.”

“Oh we all do, Dawn. We all do. Especially when the world isn’t treating us too kind,” Mrs. Schafer answered.

Mrs. Klein added to Dawn, “I know you had a vampire visitor a while back…I knew he was there…I have magic fields binding the house. It allows welcomed demons within the walls, people like Davie or Mrs. Schafer or other children I bring home…as well as your friend…but it does warn me beforehand.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Dawn said immediately, “He came to say ‘hi.’ H-he used to look after me. He’s my friend.”

Mrs. Klein held up her hand. “It’s okay, dear. No need to apologize. Remember, I know you miss your family and friends.”

“Speaking of which, Dawn…do you want to go home? Can you handle it properly this time? Can you handle it in the adult manner you handled Davie’s…um…situation?” Mrs. Schafer asked gently.

Dawn stared back at the woman, her eyes set on the social worker’s face. “Yes ma’am. I’m more ready than I’ve ever been in my life…I-I was selfish and I was stupid. But I’m ready to make up for it. I really am.”

Mrs. Schafer nodded. Picking up the phone, she pushed a button and said, “Marlene? Yes…it’s time.”

Dawn glanced over at Mrs. Klein who reached over and patted Dawn’s hand and gave her a small smile. “Good luck, Dawn,” she said softly, “You have an important job ahead of you…almost as important as your sister’s. Your job is to insure she feels the love of her family and for you to embrace the love of all these people who care about you. And in turn you will grow up to be a very beautiful and aware young lady.”

Dawn looked at her, confusion all over her face, her eyebrows furrowed as the door opened to the office and Dawn heard a familiar voice…

“Dawn?”

Spinning around in her chair, Dawn stared up at Giles who held out his arms to her. Jumping up from the chair she flung her arms around his neck, nearly taking off his glasses. 

“Holy Moses, it’s a love-in, Summers style!” Another familiar voice chimed in from behind Giles’ back.

“Xander!” Dawn screeched and grabbed a hold of Xander’s neck with one arm and smooshed the two of them, one under each arm as she stood on her tip-toes, tears of joy streaming down her face. Giles chuckled and pushed his glasses back onto his nose with his finger and patted her back as Xander gave her a hug.

“Ahem.”

Dawn looked over Xander’s shoulder and saw Anya standing there, arms crossed, her blonde hair in little ringlets, her bright red dress and her matching pumps standing out against the drab social worker’s office décor. 

“Anya!” Dawn slipped under Xander’s arm and went to hug the former vengence demon. Anya rolled her eyes and smiled despite it all and patted Dawn’s head like a puppy as they embraced. 

“Yes, yes, dear. We’re here now. Here to take you home,” Anya said.

Dawn spun around and looked at Mrs. Schafer. “Can…can I go home?”

Mrs. Schafer nodded. “Yes, Dawn. You may go home under a couple of conditions…”

Dawn nodded quickly and answered, “Name them. I’ll do whatever you want me to. Anything at all.”

“You must be true to yourself…and that would include avoiding doing things that would be harmful to your well-being. You are a bright, young, woman, Dawn Summers. You fly straight…or you’ll be right back where you started,” Mrs. Schafer advised, “We will be watching you.” Dawn looked up at Giles and he nodded his approval and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Secondly, you are to obey Mr. and Mrs. Harris. They are your legal guardians now. Your sister has been given visitations which she will be notified of and you will have various weekends and holidays where you may stay with her. But Xander and Anya are now in charge of you until you are of age to care for yourself.”

Dawn’s jaw dropped and she turned to look at Xander who shrugged playfully and nodded. “You’re stuck with us, kid,” he joked.

Mrs. Schafer stood up and strode over to Dawn and shook her hand. “I am sure you can meet these requirements. You have to work with us…there will be check-ups.”

“Yes ma’am. T-thank you,” Dawn answered with a smile. 

Mrs. Schafer left the office. Anya pointed as the door shut and mouthed, “Demon.” Giles nodded and rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed. Xander frowned and nudged his wife with his elbow.

“Hey!” Anya snapped.

“Mr. Giles I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Mrs. Klein said then, holding out her hand, “I’m Mrs. Klein, Dawn’s caregiver…I’m also a demonologist. I’ve heard much about you…”

Giles blushed and ducked his head a bit as he took her hand. “Oh my, yes well…”

“I know you are quite knowledgeable within the field. You’re renown for your collection of demon texts…”

“Why yes, well, I take much pride in my collection, yes…” Giles stammered with some embarrassment. 

Xander stood behind Giles and mockingly held his hand up like a puppet, moving his fingers open and shut as Giles stuttered. Xander rolled his eyes. Dawn giggled.

“I would love to discuss one of my foster children with you sometime. He is half demon and I am always looking for input from other colleagues on the subject,” she said, handing him a card.

“Of course. That would be fascinating. I will give you a call then.,” Giles answered with a smile as Dawn tugged on his arm and led him towards the door. “Thank you for taking such good care of our Dawn, here. We truly appreciate all you have done for her.”

Mrs. Klein nodded and smiled at Dawn. “Remember what I told you. Good luck, Dawn.”

Dawn turned to Mrs. Klein and touched her wrist. Stopping, Mrs. Klein looked at Dawn, who held out her arms to the woman and embraced her in a hug.

“Thank you so much,” Dawn whispered.

“You’re very welcome Dawn. I’m a demonologist…and you are definitely not a demon,” she whispered and smiled at the girl, “You are a lovely girl. I wish you the best.”

Mrs. Klein waved goodbye to Dawn as she left with her friends, arm-in-arm with Giles and Xander, Anya trailing behind them, mumbling something about a shape-shifting demon she once dated and had tried to curse but she couldn’t find him because he would turn himself into pieces of furniture.

Sighing and shaking her head, Mrs. Klein walked back down the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

The living room was closed off to the sun but Spike knew it was daytime. His body just knew. Spike’s eyes opened and he blinked, rubbing them with both hands. Stretching, Spike pointed his toes and scratched the back of his neck. 

He headed to the kitchen and got himself a bag of chocolate chip cookies out of the cupboard and set that on the counter, and began humming as he dug into the fridge for some blood. Getting a mug, he poured the blood from its plastic medical pouch and tucked it into the microwave.

Heading into the living room, Spike noticed Buffy’s jacket still hung on the hook near the door. Looking over his shoulder, he realized her purse was still on the kitchen counter. Frowning, Spike looked down the bedroom hallway and stared at Buffy’s bedroom door.

The microwave gave a ding. Spike ignored the scent of warm blood and headed for Buffy’s room, pausing with his hand on the door. He could faintly hear her…

“Buffy?”

Nothing.

“Buffy, luv…?” Spike waited, then turned the handle.

Buffy sat on her bed, her legs pulled up towards her chest, her eyes bloodshot…she’d been crying. Looking up at Spike, she blinked, her eyes watery and sad.

“Oh Buffy…” he sighed. 

She shook her head and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Patting the space on the bed next to her, Buffy sniffled. The seriousness in her eyes sent chills through him. 

Hesitating, Spike stood there. What was she going to say? She’d skipped work…she hid in her room and obviously had been crying. Something was bothering her. Something was wrong.

Please don’t push me away again, Buffy. Please. I can’t take it…

“I…can we talk?” Buffy asked quietly.

Spike nodded slowly and padded over to Buffy. Sitting down next to her, but keeping his space, he rested his elbows on his knees, and turned toward her. “What’s the matter?” he asked gently.

Buffy looked up to the ceiling and let out a breath. “Everything,” she answered. She turned towards Spike and swallowed hard. “This…it’s all wrong.” She gestured around her and let her hand drop to her leg with a slap.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, it’s been kinda wrong for a while now,” he replied, “That’s why we’re here.”

Buffy closed her eyes. “No. I mean, yes. This is wrong. I…I don’t belong here. You don’t belong here,” she opened her eyes and said, “This isn’t working.”

“Would you care to update the vampire, luv, ‘cause I’m not following you too well…I’m not a morning person and I must’ve been asleep during the newsflash.” Spike shook his head.

Buffy stood up. “I’m done running.”

Spike watched her begin to pace in front of him. Watched her begin rambling about being The Slayer and having a responsibility and keeping those responsibilities. Watched her wave her hands around as she talked, talked about getting back to business and leaving this mess behind. His eyes began to shine with pride. He felt tears welling up inside them.

My Slayer. THIS is my Slayer!

“I’m done here. I’ve wallowed in self-pity. I’ve totally messed myself up, my body, my psyche. I’ve wasted everyone’s time…especially yours…”

“You’re never a waste of my time,” Spike interrupted her, quickly wiping the tears away from his eyes before she noticed them.

“Bottom line is this isn’t what I am supposed to be doing. I…I miss Dawn. I miss my house. I miss my Mom,” Buffy’s voice cracked, “But she wouldn’t want to see me like this. It’s time…it’s time to head home. HOME, Spike.”

Spike looked up at her and gave her a small smile. “You say the word…and it’s done.”

“Let’s go home,” Buffy whispered and reached for his hand. Spike stared back at her, tilting his head, questioning her actions, gazing at her in awe.

Buffy gave him a little smile and took his hand in hers. Spike opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly and instead chose to give her hand a squeeze. He lifted it to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss.

 

* * *

 

Tara and Giles sat down to dinner. Giles looked at her over the top of his glass, his eyes serious. He swallowed his water and sighed, picking at his food, clinking the fork around on the plate half-heartedly.

“W-what’s wrong? Did I over cook the meat?” Tara raised her eyebrows and motioned towards Gile’s steak.

Giles gave a small laugh and shook his head. “Oh Lord no, Tara…it’s delicious,” his smile disappeared, “I’m just thinking about what I should do next.”

“Oh…you mean with Dawnie?” Tara asked and picked at her corn with her fork.

“Yes. There has to be something I can do besides sit here and mope.”

“Well there is,” Tara blurted out. 

Giles raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He leaned forward and asked, “What do you suggest?”

Tara took a deep breath and pointed towards the phone on the wall behind Giles’ head. “Give Anya a call.”

“Anya? Tara, I’m not too sure what Anya of all people could do for me, especially with her and Xander out of town…”

“Just call her,” Tara ordered with a little smile, “I was told to wait a few days…and I think it’s time.”

Giles frowned and looked at Tara, who giggled and pointed again towards the phone. Giles looked over his shoulder at the phone then back at Tara and let out a bewildered breath of air.

“Uh. Okay…I’ll do that then.”

* * *

Buffy poured herself a glass of wine and called over to Spike, “Want some wine? I’ve got the red kind you like…I’m thinking it has something to do with the fact that it resembles your favorite drink of choice…”

Spike called over his shoulder from the couch, “Since when do you drink?”

Buffy poured him a glass of wine and headed into the front room, a glass in each hand. Handing a glass off to him, she shrugged, “Since I discovered I like to smoke. I’ve been sullied. I’m a bad girl now.”

“You gonna keep up that bad habit once we go home?” Spike asked and sipped his wine, “I see it now. Slayer’s gotta take a fifteen minute smoke break between battling the forces of evil. I could get used to that. The other vamps might not let you have the chance, though.” He smirked and laid his glass on the coffee table.

“I think I can quit, probably not a good idea to continue smoking and slaying. It’s like oil and water…not gonna mix. The first time I run out of breath trying to kill a slime demon or something there’ll be hell to pay,” Buffy sipped her wine, “But this I can do. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the whiskey though.” Buffy scrunched up her nose and shuddered, “Blech.”

Spike leaned his head against the back of the couch and turned towards Buffy, bringing his leg up. He rested his hand on one knee and sighed. “What’s the plan now?”

“I…I don’t know for sure,” Buffy answered softly and took a long gulp of wine.

Spike nodded. “I’ll call Basil Faulty tomorrow…let him know we’re coming back soon and he’ll get to start Watching you again.”

Buffy stared into her half drank glass of wine. The red liquid twinkled back at her. She could vaguely see the light from the kitchen reflected in the little red pool of wine. Sitting there, she wondered what Giles would say. What would Tara say? How would they react to her? 

Am I ready for this? I don’t crave any drugs…I don’t need them any more. I don’t hate myself. I-I want to start over. Can they accept that? Try and get past my behavior? Can I get past what I’ve done?

~Lucas on top of her, sliding within her…in and out…his breathing in her ear. The beat of their bodies as they ground against one another, the old bed groaning under their movement. The rhythm of the lie pulsing in her brain as she tried to float far away…pretend it was…him. Her body moving to the music, the lights flashing in her eyes. Her eyes glazed over yet open, knowing if she thought of him, thought of his eyes or his face…it’d all be over soon. It’d disappear just as quickly as the song and as she pulled the string on her top, stripped naked in front of all those strangers, she bared her body to them and her soul slowly slipped through the cracks in the runway floor. But he was always there in her mind, to keep her sane…~

Buffy blinked and put the glass down on the coffee table and glanced over at Spike, who was watching her silently, his eyes fixed on her face. He looked away and said quickly, “I’m gonna turn in. Got a long day ahead of us. Gotta call Rupert and start packing our stuff…” He pulled his pillow out from behind his back and tucked it next to the arm of the couch and started untying his boots.

She sat quietly, watched him lean forward, watching his fingers pull at the laces…seeing the muscles in his arms move and quiver as he tugged the boots off one after the other. He tucked his socks into one boot and pushed them aside. He sat back and looked at her.

“Oh. Oh-Okay,” Buffy stuttered. She nodded and reached for the glass, and took a last swig of wine. Rubbing her thumb on the smooth glass, she remembered what it was like to feel glass slice at her wrists, smash into her knuckles. She looked back at Spike. He sat with his hands clasped in front of him, staring at them through the awkwardness.

Buffy got up and took her glass to the sink, rinsed it, and headed towards the hallway. She looked over her shoulder and watched as Spike sighed, pulling off his black t-shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor near his boots. He scratched his neck and slowly sunk onto the couch, reaching over his shoulder to pull the fleece throw that was hanging on the couch up and over himself. He gave a defeated sigh.

Realizing she had paused, he looked over the back of the couch at Buffy and said quietly, “Goodnight, luv.”

Buffy stared back and answered him, “No.”

Spike sat up partway and looked at her, watched as she swallowed hard and stepped forward, nervously touching her tiny cross necklace around her neck. “Uh…no,” she repeated in a soft voice.

“You gotta elaborate on that, pet. ‘No’ you don’t want me to sleep? ‘No’ you don’t want to have a good night?” Spike asked with confusion, a hint of annoyance in his tired voice. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“No…I can’t have a good night,” Buffy said quietly, “If you aren’t with me.”

Spike stared back at her, his lips parted slightly, lying back against the arm of the couch, propped up on his elbows. He blinked.

Did I hear her right? I must be dreaming again…

Buffy moved towards him, a determined look in her green eyes. As she reached the couch she slid onto the cushions and in an instant, pulled herself over his body in one motion, sliding over him, straddling his legs and holding herself up above him, her lips inches from his.

“This is what I need. This is what I have needed…and I kept it held in. You. You are the only thing…” Buffy whispered, her eyes drilling into his, unblinking, “…the only thing that kept me going. You believe in me. No matter what I say to you. No matter how rotten I’ve treated you. The times I’ve discarded you,” she closed her eyes with shame, unable to look at him.

She felt his lips gently pressed against hers. She felt the electric shock, the life flow between them…despite his lack thereof. She felt the warmth within her as his arms pulled her down on top of him, felt them encompass her, hold her close to his chest. His cool lips brushing against hers, pressing harder as his hands slid down her back.

Buffy opened her eyes and stared back into his. All she could see there was love. How she could have possibly ignored it for this long was a mystery to her. No, she knew it had been her own way of punishing herself. Her way of trying to keep herself from happiness. She knew that Spike was off limits. Not because he should be. Not because he had to be. Because Slayers weren’t supposed to be with vampires. But even deeper than that…she couldn’t let herself love this one. This one was different.

Never mind she’d already been with Angel. Spike…he was something else. And she knew that. He had been the bad-boy, punk rocker with the hair and the loud music, leather jacket and motorcycle boots. She had seen him seething with evil. But she also knew that he was something else entirely. He was capable, even without a soul like the one that Angel had been cursed with…Spike was capable of caring. Of love. And she couldn’t admit to it because none of the others could either. She forced those thoughts from her mind because it made her feelings for him easier to deal with. 

It was easier for her to deny her attraction to him, her admiration of him, her love for him, and instead treat him like crap. And then she didn’t have to worry about trying to gain permission and acceptance from her friends. They’d never accept him so it was easier to do the same. He gave her his all and in return she used him for his capabilities. She used him for his knowledge and his strength and loyalty. She used him for his friendship or more so for his companionship. And she had used him for sex…

But now she understood that all of that was a cover. A cover she used to save herself from the burning inside her. The need and the absolute urge…the drive…to have him. To be with him. To feel that love that burned now, shone from his eyes when he stared up at her…it was time to succumb to it. Embrace it. Live. She had denied herself life from the moment she’d returned from her grave.

“I would wait, luv. Wait ‘til the end of time for you,” he whispered and added with a little twinkle in his eye, “Because I’m not goin’ anywhere and I’ve got all the time in the world.”

“But I don’t,” Buffy retorted and said softly, “And I’m done pretending that you’re not worth my time because every day without you I feel myself losing something inside me…the energy I feel when I’m with you…”

Spike shook his head and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Buffy, I am not the beginning and the ending of your power. I cannot inspire you to do your job. I can’t be the one who keeps you grounded. You are amazing on your own, Buffy. Your strength and your power is yours and yours alone. I’m just a smitten minion begging for scraps at your dinner table.” His lips set in a line, the last words rolling off them like barbs. They hurt her…hitting her chest and ripping at her heart.

Buffy looked away. “I’m strong, yes. I can fight yes. I’m The Chosen One,” she rolled her eyes, “Yeah. I got all that,” she looked back down at him, her hand shakily moving to touch his face, “But if I don’t have the drive to do those things…Spike, I fight for everyone I love or have ever loved. Dawn, m-my Mom, Giles, my f-friends, everyone I c-care about, all the love in my heart and in my soul, THAT is where I get my drive to kick and to punch and to struggle until I’m bloody and broken and when I think it’s a lost cause…” Buffy ran her hand down the side of his face, touching his lips with her thumb she whispered, “I think of the people I’m fighting for and I keep going. The people I love more than anything in the world. I-I think of you,” Buffy swallowed hard, “I love…I love you, Spike.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw set, a muscle in his cheek twitching with tension. Springing forward suddenly he pushed her off him onto the floor, rolling down on top of her, held her down by both arms, his body on top of hers. She stared up at him with scared eyes as they both breathed heavily.

“Don’t…tease…me…!” he panted as he stared down at her, “Because I can’t take that from you anymore. You can only whip a horse so many bloody times before the damn thing dies, Buffy!” His eyes bore into hers as he hovered over her, holding her trapped beneath him between the couch and the coffee table.

Buffy gritted her teeth, struggling with her hands, trying to pull her wrists loose from his iron grip. “I love you,” she answered him defiantly, “Didn’t you hear me?!”

“Y’know I can hear it but I can’t see it, Buffy! Words! That’s all they are…just words. You can say them and not mean them. You can use them to set things up to your liking. I should know! I’m the heartless, soulless, creature of the night, using those same, meaningless, words to lure the next woman into the dark alley so I can rip her sodding throat out and suck out her life’s blood! If you want to play me again Buffy, it’s been done. I-I can’t do it again...” he said hoarsely.

They stared at one another, her eyes studying his, his glaring back at hers, unblinking. She could feel his strength as he held her arms up around her head. He could see her breasts rise and fall as she breathed. He wanted to ravage her. 

No. I won’t be played again. I have to be sure she’s got her head on straight…

“I…I’ve given you every bit of me, what’s left of me…I don’t have a soul, but if I did, you’d have that too,” Spike whispered, “You…you talk about drive…I’m past that point, luv. You consume me. You’ve eaten away at me. You say you can’t have a good night without me? I haven’t had a moment’s peace without something reminding me of you. You say you love me? I used to think that love didn’t exist for people like me…when…when I was living. And when I met Dru…I thought that that was the truest love possible. You think you love me? You don’t know love until it rips at your heart, until it feeds off of your energy and makes you weak like a sick child. ‘Til you shake at night wondering why you aren’t good enough for her…” he swallowed and closed his eyes.

“Spike…” Buffy whispered gently, her eyes filling with tears.

He looked at her and shook his head, “No, Buffy. Love isn’t something I’m supposed to feel. I’ve got a hole where my soul belongs. I’ve got a heart that sits there and taunts me any chance it gets ‘cause the sodden thing doesn’t work. But every time I see you…I feel it. It aches and it cripples me and if that’s not what you feel then whatever you feel isn’t the same fucking thing I feel…and it’s not love,” Spike held her wrists tight and stared at her, jaw clenched, one solitary tear rolling down his cheek.

Buffy felt the tears in her eyes cascading down the sides of her face as she looked away from him. She blinked and whispered, “Let go…please. You’re hurting me…”

Spike stuck out his jaw angrily and looked heavenward with frustration. “See?” He let go of her wrists and sat back on his heels in a crouch, knees on either side of her body. He looked away and whispered, “It’s not what you feel…” his hands hung limp at his sides, defeated.

Buffy sat up, tears running down her face and brushed her hair from her eyes. Leaning forward she slowly ran her hands up the sides of his neck to his face. He turned his head away from her but she gently brought it back to face hers. Scooting as close as she could to him, their bodies touching, Buffy slowly kissed him, first on his forehead, then on his lips.

Silently, she pulled him down to her, running her hands through his blonde hair, kissing his neck as she whispered, “It’s all that I feel. It’s the only thing I feel.”

Slowly touching, gently kissing, Buffy held onto Spike, kissing his chest, his shoulders, his upper arms. She kissed his cheeks and his ears…

“Buffy…” he whispered softly, his voice trembling, sending chills down her spine as she took advantage of his mouth being half opened and slowly slipped him her tongue. Spike reciprocated, his tongue dipping deep, his kisses long…desperate. Buffy ran her hands up into his hair, holding onto his blonde curls and bringing him as close to her as she could.

Running his hands up her sides, he cupped her breasts, touching them gently, pressing himself against them as he began to kiss her neck. She let out a little breath as he pulled her into his lap, gripping her ass in both hands as he brought her down onto the bulge in his jeans. Spike pulled on the bottom of her shirt and she willingly lifted her arms, allowing him to strip her tank top up and over her head, her naked breasts, their pink nipples firm, teasing him as she rubbed herself against him.

As Buffy slowly wriggled against his lap, Spike began to knead her breasts gently, his tongue flicking out around a nipple, his lips encircling one as she slowly swirled his tongue over the point.

Buffy moaned his name then, sending chills through his body. He could feel himself ready to explode. Lifting her ass up with both hands he pulled at the waist of her pajama bottoms, sliding them down over her butt. Buffy pushed him down onto the carpet, quickly kicking off her pants, and unbuttoning the top of his jeans.

Unzipping his pants, Buffy gave them a tug, pulling them over his hips and quickly slipping them off his legs. Commando as usual, his penis erect, Buffy slid herself over him, slowly glancing the top of his dick with her breasts as she planted herself down on top of him, the silky crotch of her pink thong panties rubbing against the top of his shaft.

Spike pulled her face to his and kissed her deeply, his lips against hers, then a nibble at her bottom lip, as he trailed his tongue down to her neck and fumbled for her panties. Buffy let out a moan as she slowly rubbed herself against him, causing him to pant and grab at her ass. As she listened to his breathing speed up, she stopped and reached down, giving his dick a pump. He pulled at her panties and ripped them off in one motion.

Buffy stared into his eyes, which were now wild with desire, his blue pupils darkened, almost black, his mouth slightly open. He shuddered as she rubbed herself against him, her naked, sticky, warmth brushing his erection. He clutched her butt with both hands and held her still against him.

Staring into the abyss of his gaze, Buffy gave in. She let go of all her cares and all the what ifs. Everything she had worried about was gone. The lies were over. The games were over. This was just her and him. And it wasn’t to feel. It wasn’t to fuck. It wasn’t just some thing that she and Spike did. It was so much more than that. 

As she slid down onto him, felt him within her, she let out a gasp...he filled her…he filled her mind and her heart and as they moved together, their breathing in time, rasping, panting, intertwined with moans and kisses, clutching one another and holding each other…she opened her eyes and saw him smiling and realized she was smiling as well. Tears were streaming down her face…but she was beaming from ear-to-ear.

And she knew it was right. 

Heat rose between them as they moved together, everything within her coming to a flutter. Her breath taken away as he came within her. Everything was shuddering as they whispered each other’s names.

And when she collapsed on top of him, their breathing heavy, as she felt him run his hand down her back and up into her hair and she felt his soft lips kiss the top of her head…she still knew everything was right. She could tell that this time, the feeling was not going to change. She wasn’t going to find an excuse to leave or a way to make it something that it wasn’t. No. This was what it was. As he whispered her name softly in her ear and just held her there…it all fell into place. This was love. And she didn’t need him to say it back just now in order to know that he loved her, too.


	12. Chapter 12

You love him   
You love him more than this   
You love him and you cannot, you can't resist   
You love him   
You love him for yourself   
You love him and no one, no one else 

Past sidewalk ashes   
A last lover’s arc   
You come apart to intertwine   
It was all so simple   
As you watched him move   
Across the darkness in your room…

*Lyrics by Smashing Pumpkins from the song “Daphne Descends.”

 

***12***

“You know one important thing I learned from this entire, shitful, experience?” Buffy asked Spike as she pushed another box into the back of the Jeep.

“How to drive?” Spike answered her snarkily.

“That too,” she replied and grabbed another box from him and lifted it into the Jeep, “But I also learned that librarians have very dry hands.”

Spike frowned and took both her hands in his and turned them over, palms up. “You’re not a librarian, luv,” he looked her hands over and mumbled, “Though you could use a dab of lotion here and there…”

Buffy snatched her hands back from him and frowned. “And with all this moving I feel like I should have gained some muscle mass at least. Instead I’ve got dry, bleeding hands from shelving books and sore arms from lifting everything I own in and out of my car. I am so out of shape. I’m frumpy. I’m dry and frumpy.”

“Oh cry me a river, Slayer,” Spike answered her and smiled at her adding, “I learned a couple things myself.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and what would that be?”

Spike held up two fingers and smirked, “These two fingers are good for more than just flipping the old British bird…”

Buffy blushed and looked away and Spike sauntered up to her and placed his chin on her shoulder and added, “And I learned that wine from a box…isn’t so bad if you get the right brand.”

She rested her head next to his, felt his curly hair against the side of her face. His hands slid up around her waist and he drew her close to him, a happy sigh escaping from his lips. “I learned I’ve got it bad…love-sick, no-holds-barred, blubbering idiot, yearning for a certain chosen girl…Slayer…”

“The ONLY Slayer, well, er, besides Faith but she don’t count ‘cause she’s wonky,” Buffy answered him and added, “And besides I’m much cuter than her.”

Spike chuckled and kissed her temple. “Better get a move on. We’ve got the night to drive and then I’ll turn back into a pumpkin, a rather burnt one at that.”

“And that’d do wonders for the upholstery,” Buffy joked, jerking a thumb towards the Jeep. 

Growling at her with a smile on his face he grabbed her again, wrestling her up against the car. Buffy smiled as he pressed her up against the Jeep, giving her a kiss. Her lips were warm against his, soothing. He breathed her in, her warmth, her scent, her strength…all somehow a comfort to him. What once would have sent him into a rage…set him off and willed him to kill…urged him to hold on and protect, to love and to respect.

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t know why he could love a Slayer this way. Him. Soulless. Heartless. Somehow full of nothing but passion and love for his enemy. And he no longer gave a damn why or how. It just was.

Kissing him back and touching his face, Buffy smiled at him. “I love your smile, Spike,” she said quietly, “It’s…it’s really amazing.”

Looking down at his feet he blushed. “Bollocks…”

“No. It’s really very handsome,” Buffy answered him and kissed his cheek, “As opposed to the whole bumpy forehead, fang-y, Michael Jackson’s Thriller, yellow egg-yolk eyeballs look. I’m all for the handsome Spike-smile,” she paused and said softly, “You have beautiful, blue, eyes.”

Looking back up at her, he tried not to smile, tried to frown at her, but couldn’t control himself and let out a laugh instead. “All right, you have me there, pet. But you do realize Michael Jackson stole that look from us vamps, right? I mean, not the Elizabeth Taylor makeup crossed with the whole Pinocchio nose thing but the Thriller eyes…”

Buffy held up both hands in mock surrender. “I withdraw my statement. The eyes are all yours, all egg-y and ready to be scrambled, just like Mr. Jackson’s grip on reality. I got it.”

Taking both her raised hands, Spike slid his fingers between hers, her palms pressed against his, the backs of her hands against the car. Kissing her again, Spike squeezed her hands in his and brought them back around his neck. 

“Seriously though. Gotta get going now, luv. Help me hook the trailer up.” 

“Do we gotta?” Buffy whined and pouted her lip.

Spike rolled his eyes and closed them, leaning forward and taking her bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle nibble. “You better tuck lil’ pouty lip back in…it’s temptin’ me,” he whispered to her with a smile.

“That’s not a bad thing, right? Being…tempted,” Buffy teased, running her hand up and down his abs, sliding her fingertips across the waist of his jeans.

Sucking in a breath, the vampire answered her, “Not under normal circumstances…but we’re expected in Sunny-D before the sun rises…and I’d hate to see Rupert throw a fit. It’s just not proper.”

Dropping her hands Buffy sighed. “Fine. Party-pooper.” Buffy started to slide past him.

Blocking her path with his right hand, Spike leaned in close to her. “Are you ready for this, Buffy?” he asked her quietly.

“Like old hat or-or riding a bike,” Buffy answered him and nodded, “I’m ready like spaghetti.”

Dropping his hand to touch her shoulder, he rubbed it with his thumb. “No really, luv. What’s the vibe…what’s your feeling on this?”

Buffy looked down. “It’s time,” she looked back up at him and repeated herself, unblinking, “It’s time.” She was sure.

Nodding, Spike gave her shoulder another squeeze. “Good.” 

Buffy watched him start hitching the trailer to the back of the Jeep and listened to her own words ringing in her ears. 

It’s time…time…time…time…

Swallowing hard, Buffy ran her hand over her hair and shook her words away. She was heading home, with or without her pride intact, with or without Dawn or the house. But it was time to quit running, time to face the music. 

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

 

* * *

 

“H-how should we act? I mean, when we see her?” Tara asked quietly as she took a piece of Scotch tape from Xander’s fingertip and taped the edge of the sign to the corner of the wall.

“Spike said she has made very good progress since…since we last saw her. I-I would say we should treat her as usual. Give her a chance to re-adjust,” Giles answered and taped his end, stepping down from the chair and looking up at their handy work.

Welcome Home Buffy!

“It’s a good sign,” Xander added, “Pleasant and cheery…very un-threatening.”

“She’s…she’s doing better with…with the drugs then?” Tara asked in a whisper.

“I still think we should have sent her to rehab,” Anya added, “I know of a perfect place in the Hollywood dimension…”

Everyone turned and looked at Anya, mouths slightly agape. “The Hollywood dimension?” Xander asked and crossed his arms, “Is that like a whole dimension that’s all Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher all the time? ‘Cause THAT…that’s just frightening.”

“No silly. Demi isn’t a demon. Nor is her little boy toy though I do think there is some magic going on there…possibly an enslavement charm or…”Anya began.

“The Hollywood dimension, Ahn,” Xander interrupted with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. That’s what I said. Courtney Love is a regular there…”

“That’s encouraging,” Giles mumbled with a cough.

“Should we be worried about Buffy?” Tara asked, trying to swing the conversation back on track.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed them. “Well, I don’t think we need to follow her around and watch her every move, no. But…we should be mindful of her moods. Be there for her when she needs us and be aware of any sudden changes.”

Xander sat down on the carpet and looked down at his shoes. Playing with the loops, he said sadly, “I…I find it hard believing all that you’ve told me. Find it hard to think that Buffy…did those things.”

Giles leaned against the wall and nodded. “It was quite a shock to all of us.”

Xander swallowed hard and added, “That she let them…bite her…”

“She got all over Riley for his little sucking problem,” Anya added and sat next to Xander on the floor.

“Riley did it for different reasons than Buffy,” Tara added, “Right?” She looked over at Giles who had placed his glasses back onto his nose, pushing them up with one finger.

There was a silence, each of them looking around at one another, not knowing what to say. Knowing Riley had been bitten by the vamps because he wanted to feel needed…wondering at the same time if Buffy had needed that feeling as well, if at that point, if she needed that to feel necessary. They all collectively wondered what they missed…what they could have done to prevent her from falling so far, from feeling so low that she needed to do those things.

“Hey guys, what’s wrong? Is there a funeral I don’t know about?” Dawn asked as she tromped down to the bottom of the stairs. She looked at all of them and frowned.

Xander put a smile on his face immediately and jumped up, everyone else following suit, going back to looking busy as Xander gave Dawn’s shoulders a squeeze. “Nothin’ wrong here Dawnster…just the old ones growing tired from a long day. We would be the old ones,” he motioned towards himself and the others as he hunched over pretending to be an old man with a cane, causing Dawn to burst out laughing.

“I refuse to get a hunchback,” Anya insisted, “And I will not be wrinkly. There’s crèmes for that…”

Giles looked out the window at the street below, the trees rustling in the breeze, the moonlight glistening across the green grass. He could see Buffy racing across the front lawn, running up to a vampire, staking him square in the heart. He could see her sitting there on a blanket in the sun, eating lunch with her sister…see her laugh and fall back on the blanket.

How did he allow for this to happen to his Slayer…to Buffy? Will she truly be all right? Even after knowing that Dawn is safe…can she recover from what she’s put herself through? What she’s been through as a whole?

Giles closed the curtain and turned towards the group. He would soon find out.

 

****

 

“Here we are, pet.” Spike pulled the Jeep onto Cottonwood Street and stopped in front of a brick apartment complex with a little garden off to the side. Buffy looked out through the window and stared at the building. Pretty, little, lamps lit the sidewalk, casting a welcoming glow across the yard. 

“I can’t afford this,” she whispered.

“Yes you can,” Spike answered her, “Besides, it’s already covered for the next few months.” He opened the door and started to get out.

“What…?” Buffy grabbed his shoulder and turned him back towards her.

Spike answered, “It’s handled. Don’t question it. Don’t get upset or go all martyr on me. It’s yours, Buffy. Just accept it.”

Frowning, Buffy watched as Spike slammed the Jeep’s door behind him and went around the front of the car. He opened the door for her and stood there, waiting for her to move.

“Buffy?”

She looked at him and said quietly, “I don’t know what to say.”

Spike answered, “Then don’t say anything. Let’s just get you inside. You and the Scoobies can unpack all your stuff tomorrow once you’ve seen the place.”

Buffy followed Spike up the walk and he took her inside, unlocking the door to apartment number 12. He extended his arm, holding open the door for her to walk past as he flicked on the light with his other hand. Buffy stepped inside and stopped.

Looking up Buffy read the sign hanging across the front room. Her hands to her mouth, she smiled, tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes. Spike closed the door behind them and watched as she slowly made her way through the empty apartment to the kitchen, touching the countertops. She opened the fridge and found it fully stocked with food and laughed.

“They’ve thought of everything,” she called to him. Spike stood near the door still, a little smile playing at his lips as he watched her happily walk around the apartment. She held up a can of Easy Cheez and a box of Ritz crackers and laughed. “Gross…but sooo good.”

“There’s an upstairs,” he answered her, “Giles said that the bedroom and a little office and a bathroom are up there.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped. “I get a ‘little office?’ And an upstairs?”

Spike pointed at the wooden staircase and nodded. “All up there.”

He followed her up the stairs, watched her look in the bathroom, listened to her approve of her large tub and shower combo with jets. He watched her smile as she looked into the office and laugh as she noted that she would have to buy some books and make it look ‘office-y.’ He followed her into the room where there was an air mattress set up and a note…

Buffy knelt down next to the air mattress and opened the folded paper and read it out loud,

“Welcome home, Buffy. We hope you like it and we are terribly glad to have you back here with us. It’s been a long day for you, I’m sure, so please feel free to sleep here and get used to the place. If Spike has not already informed you, you don’t have to worry about the cost of your new home right now. I have that covered for you. We have lots of surprises for you tomorrow. Be ready to get up early and start moving in your things. Much love to you. You were missed beyond words. Giles,” she read out loud.

Looking up from the letter, Buffy smiled, tears running down her face. “This is so…”

“You better get some rest now, luv. You heard the Watcher…” Spike motioned towards the air mattress, the blanket and sheet already pulled down at one corner.

Buffy plopped down on the mattress and stretched out her legs. “I’ve never slept on one of these…maybe it’s kinda like sleeping on a cloud…?” She bounced a little on the mattress and smiled as she flopped back onto her pillow.

Spike didn’t say anything. Leaning against the doorframe, he asked her quietly, “Want me to leave the hallway light on?”

Buffy sat up, leaning on her elbows, her eyebrows furrowed. She frowned at him, tilting her head.

“Goodnight, luv,” he said quickly and ducked out of the room.

Blinking, Buffy jumped up from the little mattress and rushed into the hall, grabbing his arm before he began to descend the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Buffy stared at him, confusion blanketing her stare. She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear nervously.

Spike looked past her. “Got some things to do now that I’m back in town. Gotta go check my crypt for one. Make sure it’s still mine. Evict anyone who thinks it’s theirs. Clem was crypt-siting but who knows how that went…”

“Oh.”

“Maybe get a little sleep…” he scratched the back of his neck and added, “You’re all safe and sound here. Your friends will be here early in the morning and I won’t be much help moving your stuff during the day with the whole Human Torch bit.”

Buffy nodded and let go of his arm. “Oh…uh. Okay. I mean…I just thought…” she stopped and looked down.

Spike stood there for a few minutes, staring at her. He wanted to stay. He never wanted to leave her ever again. He was sick of having to go and come back. Now that they were in Sunnydale again…he couldn’t go back to being the dirty secret, the thing she couldn’t tell her friends. The man she couldn’t be proud of. No, not a man…the vampire. The vampire without a soul, the vamp with the chip holding him back from being a stone-cold killer. The consensus would be the same as it had always been amongst The Scoobies. He’d still be shit to them and she’d still be their Slayer. Above him. Things would be back to normal now. Why fight it or prolong it?

They hadn’t discussed what they were going to do when they got home. It had never been brought up and he’d never done so in fear that they would get to this moment. So, he figured it would be best if he removed himself from the situation. Get himself back home and back to what they all knew as normal as soon as he could. That way it wouldn’t hurt so much when it all went back. Once she realized that she didn’t need him anymore to be strong.

“‘Night, luv,” he said quietly and headed down the steps, his boots creaking as he walked.

“Spike…p-please stay,” Buffy stuttered quickly, stepping forward. 

Looking up at her he gave her a sad smile which quickly disappeared. “You know I can’t.”

“Why?” she shook her head with confusion. “I-I don’t understand why you’re acting like this…”

“Buffy…I gotta go now,” he answered her quickly and clomped all the way down the stairs, leaving the key on the kitchen counter and heading out the door quickly, shutting it behind him with a loud click, the normally quiet noise of the door shutting echoing through the empty apartment as though it were the closing of a heavy tomb.

Buffy stood at the top of the stairs, her hands shaking. Looking around herself, the dark shadows of the empty hall closing around her, she felt completely alone. She suddenly felt very scared.

Numb, Buffy clicked on the hallway light, cracked the door to the bedroom, and sat on the mattress, hugging herself, not sure if she could fall asleep now…not wanting to.

Outside, Spike stood near the Jeep, looking up at the window to her apartment. He watched as the small sliver of light from the hall shone through. He knew she’d turned on the hallway light just like he knew she would. Jaw twitching, he stalked off, hurrying away before he could change his mind.

It’s for your own good, luv. It…I realize that now. Fucking hurts like hell…hurts me like…God. Can’t depend on me now…you need your friends and your sis. Time to get on with the show, and I’ve never been a key player.


	13. Chapter 13

Buffy woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. It sounded so strange to her, its foreign, tinkly, ring not registering in her database of familiar sounds.

Rubbing her neck, Buffy rolled off the air mattress and stood up with a sigh. She had slept poorly, not at all used to her new surroundings, a thousand thoughts moshing around in her head, not to mention having to deal with Spike turning her down to stay the night.

Sighing again, Buffy ran down the steps calling out, “Coming!’ Running her hands over her rumpled clothes and smoothing her hair back behind her ears, she opened the door.

“Buffy!” Xander threw his arms around her. Buffy laughed and hugged him back, almost knocked down by his enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here?” Buffy asked and added, “Stay back…I haven’t done the tooth brushing thing yet this morning and my breath could probably kill a small army.”

Xander shrugged and waved his hand, “Pfft. Nothing to worry ‘bout.” He then turned his no worries hand gesture into a waving of the hand in front of his face stinky gesture. Buffy slapped his shoulder and they both giggled.

“Can we come in now?” Anya asked, standing in the hallway with a large fruit basket, adorned with a big, red, ribbon on top. She poked her head around the side of the basket and added, “Hello, Buffy.”

“Hey, Anya. Uh, yeah…come right on in.” Buffy stepped aside and let Anya pass. Turning to look down the hall Buffy spotted Giles.

“Buffy,” he said, a warm smile spreading across his lips as he approached her. He paused for a split second to look at her, then embraced her.

“Giles…thank you so much,” she responded, hugging him back hard.

“For what?” Giles asked and pulled away to look at her.

“This, for the apartment, for…for not giving up on me,” Buffy whispered sadly, her eyes tearing up.

“I would never give up on you Buffy. Not in a million years. The apartment is a group gift. But I must admit…uh…Spike paid for most of it himself. I’m not quite sure how…”

Buffy frowned.“Spike?”

“Yes. Uh, let’s go inside shall we? Tara will be here shortly and we would love to help you move in your things, maybe get you some lunch,” Giles blabbed on nervously, ushering Buffy back into the apartment.

Spike paid for this…how? Why?

“Hey Buffster, you’ll have to excuse Ahn…she’s been reading Martha Stewart Living magazine and well, here’s the terrifying end result,” Xander apologized as Anya placed the large fruit basket on the kitchen counter and fluffed the bow.

“My condolences,” Buffy joked.

After some small talk, Buffy followed them outside to her car and started unloading the heavier stuff. Giles and Xander helped carry the furniture, what little she had, into the apartment while Anya and Buffy took care of carrying in the breakables.

After about an hour, Buffy sat down out front to take a brake and drink some water. Sweat glistened upon her forehead and she held the cold water bottle up to her temple. It felt good to know she wouldn’t be moving any of these things again anytime soon. And it felt good to have the cool bottle of water against her forehead.

“Buffy?”

Buffy dropped the bottle of water, which rolled partway down the walk and into the grass. Jaw agape, she stood up and stared at her sister, who stood near the end of the sidewalk, a scared look on her face, Tara standing off to the side with a smile on her lips.

“Dawn…” Buffy croaked and rushed down the sidewalk towards her sister, her arms extended.

“Buffy!” Dawn exclaimed and they hugged, giggling and crying. Buffy ran her hands down Dawn’s long hair.

“How did you get here? I-I don’t understand,” Buffy stuttered and looked over Dawn’s shoulder at Tara.

Tara smiled and pointed towards Xander, Anya, and Giles who were standing behind Buffy now. “Giles did most of the work…”

Giles blushed and lowered his head and stammered, “W-well that’s not completely true. If it hadn’t been for Tara…”

“I just gave them a call…” Tara began modestly.

“We’re the true heroes. We took her in. Moved all the way back home and bought a new house. Now I’m a mother and I’m cooking and cleaning and darning her socks…” Anya explained and pointed accusingly at Dawn.

“Ahn, hon, you don’t darn anything. The only thing you darn is me…to hell. And I think the correct word would be ‘damn.’ Oh, but did I mention that I love you?” Xander added.

Buffy began laughing. “Let me get this straight…Xander and Anya have moved back to Sunnydale and they have adopted Dawn?” Buffy looked at Dawn who nodded and laughed.

“I tried to adopt her myself but the system wasn’t too keen on an old single man without a job taking care of a pretty, young, teenage girl.” Giles explained.

Buffy ran her hands through her hair and shook her head in disbelief. The fact that all of them, all her friends had come together and worked so hard to get her sister back…it was overwhelming.

“Even after what I did you guys came through for me. Even after how badly I handled all of this…” Buffy began but stopped, her voice choked up.

Tara touched her shoulder and said quietly, “Giles wouldn’t have known what was happening if…if it hadn’t been for Spike.”

Buffy’s smile faded and she looked at Giles, whose eyes darted about and finally rested on her face. Nodding reluctantly, Giles added, “Yes…Spike played quite a roll in this, uh, as well.” He quickly took off his glasses and began cleaning them, avoiding eye contact with his Slayer.

Buffy looked at Dawn who whispered, “Spike came to see me when I was in foster care. He snuck in and gave me some advice and uh, a deck of cards. It…it meant a lot to me.”

Tara added to Buffy, “He was the one who found you.”

Buffy blinked and shook her head, pulling Dawn in for another hug. Plastering a smile on her face she rebounded quickly, “Well I’m just really glad to be home. And I’m even happier to know that my sister is nearby…”

“We’ll bring her over whenever you want. You guys can have little sleepovers and stuff,” Xander suggested, glad to have the topic shift from the heroism of Spike to something different. He was still highly uncomfortable with the idea that Spike had turned out to be Buffy’s White Knight in this entire scenario. Maybe even just a smidgeon jealous of the whole thing.

“Yes, that way Xander and I can have loud sex again,” Anya added with a nod of agreement.

“Jesus,” Giles muttered under his breath and said, “Well now that everything’s inside, let’s go get some lunch somewhere, my treat. Tara you can ride with me.”

Buffy nodded and took Dawn’s arm as they walked over to Xander and Anya’s Taurus. Dawn rubbed Buffy’s hand and smiled. “I’m so glad to be home,” Dawn sighed.

“Me too,” Buffy answered her, a hint of sadness in her voice. Dawn looked up into her sister’s eyes and saw them cloud over. After a couple seconds Buffy caught her staring at her and put a smile on her face again.

“I thought I’d never get back here,” Dawn added, “I thought you…you wouldn’t want me even if I did.”

Buffy stopped before the car, grabbing Dawn’s arms and shaking her head. “Never Dawn. I would NEVER not want you. I-I was a nervous wreck when they took you away…”

“I’m sorry I did all those things,” Dawn said, her large eyes filled with tears, “I was being so stupid…” she looked away with embarrassment.

Buffy ran her hand down Dawn’s face and lifted her chin. “Dawn, it’s over. Everything that happened between us, everything you did or I did…it’s forgotten. Okay?”

Dawn nodded. Buffy gave her a smile. “Good.”

“C’mon you two, we’ve got a pizza to slay,” Xander called out the window.

Buffy and Dawn walked together to the car, each of them wondering if the past could ever be forgotten, if the wounds they had created, had rubbed salt into, if the messes they had made would ever come back to haunt them. But not having the strength to tarnish their happiness with such negative thoughts for too long, they let them fade into the background…blinked them away with smiles and hugs. And pizza.

 

****

They had spent all day decorating, hammering, putting things away, and generally goofing around. By that evening, the apartment was well put together, and very little remained to be done.

“So…who’s been doing the slaying ‘round here while…I was away?” Buffy asked as she drank a can of Diet Coke at the kitchen counter.

“Well, we commissioned the Buffybot to do the brunt of the slaying and Tara and I would accompany. Uh, earlier on, Spike, the bot, and W-Willow were doing the majority of it.”

Buffy looked down at her can, stared into the hole at the top. “How is Willow these days?”

Giles said quietly, “Not so good. She has become…very powerful…very, uh, unstable.”

Buffy looked up at him and asked, “How unstable? Wait. What do you mean, ‘unstable?’”

Giles stared back at her without blinking, “She attacked me and Tara using her magic.”

Buffy stared, her eyebrows lowering. “Am I going to have to…?” she began but Giles interrupted.

“We may need to initiate some sort of intervention eventually, yes, but when or at what point I am not too sure of myself. After everything here with you has been fully handled, I was going to travel back to England to seek advice of the coven there…to ask their opinion in this matter.”

Buffy nodded and tapped her fingers nervously against the side of the aluminum can. How could Willow, her best friend from high school, one of the kindest, smartest, sweetest people she’d ever known, how could she have become so evil so quickly?

How did I almost completely self-destruct?

“Uh, well…I suppose I should be back to slaying then right away,” Buffy changed the subject and motioned towards the clock, “It’s getting dark out as we speak.”

“I think you should wait. I’d like to have a couple training sessions with you before I leave for England…make sure you’re ready for this,” Giles answered her quickly.

“I’ve been training on my own,” Buffy explained to him, “I-I wanted to be ready for when I came back.”

Giles gave her a tired smile and touched her hand. “I understand. That’s very good,” he told her but added, “I-I’m not so sure you are emotionally ready to handle all your Slayer duties alone yet.”

“But I am, Giles. I want to be better. I’m…I need to get back to normal as quickly as possible…” 

“Buffy, I have no doubt in my mind how badly you want to make things right again. And it’s very obvious to me that you have made incredible progress since…since I last saw you. But you have to remain patient. You need to regain your focus, get into better shape both physically and mentally. In a couple nights, if we train during the day and I see that you are ready, then we’ll send you out with another person,” Giles sighed, “You have to understand Buffy…I nearly lost you this time. I-I can’t lose you after all of this simply because we were too impatient with your recovery.”

Buffy looked away and whispered, “You don’t trust me.”

Giles, his head bent responded, “I trust you. I just don’t trust that at this time you are fully sure of yourself. You just got here. It’s only been a short time since you were still struggling with…with drugs and…and…”

“I know what I struggled with. I don’t need to be reminded,” she snapped and stood up, crushing the pop can in her hand and tossing it at the sink with a clank.

“Buffy…”

Turning around, Buffy called to her friends in the other room, “I’m starting to feel the affects of a whole lotta movin’ and an unequal amount of sleepin.’”

Looking back at Giles, Buffy said, “I think it’s time you guys head on out for tonight…I’m really beat.”

 

****

 

Buffy waited but he never came. She had figured, with The Scoobies swarming all over the apartment all day and most of the evening that he wouldn’t show up until they had left. But after sitting in her quiet apartment, sitting on the new couch that Giles had purchased for her, staring at the door and listening to the clock tick in the kitchen for hours on end…she realized he wasn’t coming at all.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she go to him then? Should she just head up to bed and say “Fuck it?” Why should she be troubling herself over Spike? He’d always came and went as he pleased. He could take care of himself. 

Because. It wasn’t him that she was troubled about. It was herself. She needed him now. She knew by the way her mind constantly skipped back to him. Wandered back to thoughts of what he might be doing or how he might be feeling. All she thought about in the back of her mind anymore was him.

She had gotten used to their routine together. Spike would be home during the day. He’d sleep until he heard her get up for work and he’d say “goodbye” to her when she left and go back to sleep for a while. He’d be up when she got home and he’d ask her about her day. They might eat some dinner together and watch some television and he’d eventually have to leave for his night job. He’d get in early in the morning and the entire cycle would start all over again. And she liked the familiarity of it. She missed it.

Maybe I’m dependent on him because of what I put myself through? I need him around now so that I can function. That’s not any good. I-I can’t depend on him like that…

Buffy stood up and locked the chain on the front door through the slide and clicked the deadbolt. Shutting off the lights as she headed upstairs, she wondered if he missed her as badly as she missed him?

Probably not. He’s had over a hundred years to get used to being alone if he wants to be. And obviously, he wants to be.

Washing her face in the sink, Buffy held the warm washcloth over her eyes, felt the heat seep deep into her pores on her forehead…cleanse and relieve her of her worries, just for a brief moment. She let out a sigh and looked into the mirror.

Smashed. The glass had been smashed and her hand had bled. Blood everywhere. Nothing could fix the mess…the shards…the fragments…everything all blown to hell and now she was staring at a distortion of herself…

Buffy blinked and her memory of the smashed mirror at her house disappeared. She wiggled the fingers on her hand and they still worked. Her hand had healed. The wounds heal over time. Just like anything. 

Shutting off the light to the bathroom Buffy padded over to her bed, the nice new one she and Spike had bought when she had gotten her first couple paychecks from her library job. He had helped her set it up in the bedroom at the other apartment, making jokes the entire time about how he’d gladly help her try it out, help her break it in. 

Staring at the bed, Buffy wondered what had changed? She thought they had come to an agreement. She loved him. He loved her. They weren’t going to deny that anymore. So why was he not laying in that bed right now? Where was he?

 

****

“I’m scared shitless,” Spike whispered, the glass shaking as he tilted his head back and took the last gulp of whiskey down his throat. The burn of the liquor as it slid down felt good…deadened the fear for a second.

“But why be so scared? I mean, she’s not gonna kill you now,” Clem answered him with a shrug and put his cards down on the table with a groan, “I’m out.”

“‘Cause. I gotta figure out what I want now. I mean…for real this time. What I WANT,” Spike answered him and took a drag off his cigarette, fingers still shaking.

“I know what I want,” a red-faced demon with four yellow horns protruding from his forehead answered, his green eyes rolling heavenward and added, “And it has something to do with having this little conversation END already.”

Spike shot him a dirty look. Clem, his folded skin jiggling from under his arm as he scratched his head sighed. “You love her, right?”

The vampire stared at Clem, blue eyes unblinking, jaw set. “Love isn’t even the right word to describe it. Chit’s got my insides mashed up in little pieces. My entire body seizes up just thinking about her,” he paused and looked down at his lap, “Well, most parts anyways…”

The red-horned demon groaned and pretended to gag himself with his clawed finger. Spike flicked his cigarette at him and snapped, “Piss off.” The demon laughed and shook his head.

“Then you need to decide if you want to keep this up or if you want to go to her,” Clem said with a shrug.

“But if I go to her, then that means she’d have to want to…BE with me. I mean, I never imagined getting to this point so I can’t say I’ve mapped out what I was gonna do if I did…” Spike reached into the wicker basket and pulled out a mewing kitten, patted its little orange head and sat it down on the table. 

“She said she wanted you to stay last night…” Clem began.

“Yeah, but staying the night once in a while when the friends ain’t around is a hell of a lot different than STAYING the night,” Spike responded and sighed as the little kitten licked at his finger, “Staying there for good. All the time.”

“Sounds like the exact same thing to me,” red-horned demon mumbled rolling his eyes.

Spike shot him a warning glare. The demon held up his hands in surrender, looked away, and began whistling Copa Cabana.

“It’s NOT the same. Let me tell you why,” Spike said, picking the kitten up and placing it in his lap, “She doesn’t want me to be her boyfriend. It was okay when we weren’t here…but Sunnyhell’s a whole other ball of wax. There’s Scoobies to contend with and a Watcher, and her job…” Spike patted the kitten on the head again, “She’s gonna have to get a regular job on top of the slaying now, too. A-And I’m not her type, none of her mates can stand me and frankly I could live without a peep out of any of them for the rest of my un-life…”

“Spike,” Clem said seriously, taking a swig of his beer, “Is it about them…or is it about you and HER?”

Staring down at the little kitten, Spike watched as it found a place to curl up, closed its eyes, and fell asleep. He didn’t want to admit it. He was more than a bit scared. He was terrified of what they would say, what she would do with her friends pressuring her to get rid of him, and mostly, he was terrified of himself. 

Would he be good enough for her? Sure, he was able to help her out when she needed it. Sure, he was able to hold it together for her sake while they were living together those few months. But could he do that all the time? What was he going to do? Invite her to the crypt for some snuggling on his armchair and a dinner of hospital blood? He had nothing to offer her now that her life was going back to normal. Before, he could offer her some stability and help her stay on course. Now…he didn’t have anything to offer her, really.

“Well, what is it?” Clem asked again.

Spike stared at the kitten and said quietly, “It’s a whole mess of stuff.”

Clem sighed and looked at their demon friend who whirled his finger around next to his temple in the universal sign for crazy and shook his head in disappointment towards Spike. Clem frowned at him and turned his attention back to the lovesick vampire.

“Bottom line is you have to ask yourself which way will you be happier? Either you can snap out of this and get on with the show, or, you need to change what has you in such a funk. Honestly, I can’t continue to play kitten poker with this Invasion of the Body Snatchers version of Spike…it’s rather pitiful to be honest. Normally, you’d be ready to eat the kitten…” Clem pointed out.

Spike looked at the sleeping kitten in his lap and sighed. Clem was right. He couldn’t keep on like this, pining away for her, wondering what to do and if what he wanted to do was right or wrong. He just couldn’t keep at this game much longer. And like Buffy had said before…they were both tired of playing games.

“I’m callin’ it a night,” Spike sighed and stood up, scooping the kitten into his coat as Clem stood up to protest. Shaking his head at Clem and frowning at the other demon, Spike took a swig off Clem’s beer and said quietly, “My heart ain’t in it tonight.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Focus, Buffy.”

If I have to hear that one more time, I’m going to scream. Then I’m going to go completely nuts and take up knitting potholders and I’m just gonna tell Giles to screw himself.

She let out a sigh and stretched forward again, her legs split completely on both sides of her, her arms stretched in front of her across the floor, her head resting on the mat. She slowly rocked forward onto her forearms, lifting her backside up in a tripod stance, and quickly lifted her legs up into the air above her head.

Giles’ training sessions had suddenly become a wild array of Yoga stances and head stands. She didn’t understand how this was supposed to help her stab vampires in the chest with wooden stakes but she went along with it anyway. Anything she could do to prove she was able to go back out on patrol without being guarded and cared for like a little child, she was willing to do.

“Good,” Giles said soothingly as she held the stance, and slowly spread her legs in midair, splitting them and letting her right lead the other into a graceful arch, down to the mat. She stepped right out of her balancing act and moved into a series of kicks and punches, twists and cartwheels…then stopped.

“You were nearly finished,” Giles complained to her, “Why are you stopping?”

Buffy breathlessly went over to the couch and plopped down, opening a bottle of water and taking a gulp. “Because I can.”

Giles frowned at her and pointed to the mat. “I completely understand that you can stop at any given time, Buffy. That’s not the point…”

“Actually, it is,” Buffy responded and sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “This isn’t about my capabilities, Giles. Admit it already so I can quit doing this Olympic Gymnastics routine over, and over again.”

Giles sat down on the other edge of the couch and looked at her, surprised by her display of attitude and in contrast, the calm way she was handling herself. Swallowing hard, Giles opened a bottle of water and took a drink.

“Down to business then,” Buffy said and turned towards her Watcher, watching him uneasily look back at her with worried eyes and a set mouth, “You don’t trust that I can handle myself. Not that I can’t handle myself physically, but emotionally you think I’m shot. I’m broken. And you are afraid that I’m going to go out there and fall victim to the vampires. You aren’t worried about the demons…you’re worried about the vampires. ‘Cause let’s face it, I have some sort of weakness for them…right? Angel. The vamps at the club. Spike,” Buffy stopped and looked straight at Giles, who blinked and mouthed the blonde vamp’s name.

“Yeah. Spike. But that’s not what this little chat’s about,” Buffy answered quickly and stood up, “It’s about where my mind is right now. And…I don’t blame you for wondering that. I was…I was pretty messed up there. I’ll be the first to admit it. And I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not perfect. I still wonder sometimes if I can come back completely from what I put myself through. But I also have faith in myself now…and I think that I’m going trust that I’m strong enough not to go back to the things that hurt me most.”

Giles nodded and whispered, “Like Spike?”

Buffy began unwrapping her hands of the tape, unwinding it off her knuckles and tossing it onto the couch. Looking back at Giles she answered him, “I knew you’d swing it this way…” she gave him a little smile.

“Well how could I not, Buffy? You…you spent months with him. Not just a couple days fighting some demons. You spent months with him living together…” Giles began.

“Fighting demons,” Buffy corrected him, “Just a different kind.”

Giles scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “Yes but you were very vulnerable…”

“I was, yes. But I’m not anymore. Giles, I know that this is largely about Spike, too. You’re scared to see me go back out there and get hurt. You don’t want him around me, yet you know he’s the only one I can turn to in desperate times. You turned to him yourself…even if you have a really hard time admitting to it. And this is driving you nuts. I understand that. But one thing you need to understand is…I’m a big girl. Yeah, I make terrible mistakes, but they’re mine. Yeah I can totally screw up a free lunch, but I can also fix the mess I make. And when I can’t fix it…he’s helped me take care of it. Think Giles…all the times that Spike has been here to help us clean up the mess. And think of all the times we…I…shunned him because it’s the proper thing to do. Slayer hate vampire. Vampire hate Slayer…” Buffy explained.

“That’s the way it has always been. Buffy, he’s killed Slayers. He’s killed them in cold blood, drained them, and thought nothing less of it except where he was going to get his next victim. He’s a demon. Angel…he is a demon with a soul. A conscience of sorts. Where is Spike’s conscience? Where does he hide it in there with the demon? The answer is he doesn’t have one. The only thing separating him from any of the monsters you fight and kill every night is that chip the Initiative placed in his skull.” Giles crossed his arms and stared at her.

Buffy looked away and shook her head. “Maybe we don’t understand this monster we deal with everyday quite as much as we claim we do. Giles,” she looked up at him, “I’ve seen Spike at his worst. He’s rotten…I can totally admit to that. But I’ve also seen him act like a completely good guy. I’ve seen him fight for what was right and not think twice about it. I’ve seen him be selfless, caring, loving…just like Angel was, even without the soul.” Buffy cut off and took a swig of her water and tossed the empty bottle on the couch, “Spike sacrificed his life for Dawn’s when Glory wanted to find The Key…I will never forget that. Do you think one of those monsters from the cemetery would do that for me? Would have done that for Dawn? I hardly think so.”

Giles opened his mouth and closed it. Buffy stared back at him and began, “He’s different somehow. Maybe the chip has given him a point of reference…he can see the choices he makes rather than only see one way of doing things. He’s safe right now…I know this. He’s not capable of hurting us and maybe he doesn’t want to even if he could. I don’t know. I’m not a scientist. I can only go on what I see of him and all I can see of Spike is that he strives harder than anyone I know to do what’s right whenever he can. If that’s the definition of a monster, then I am fighting the wrong people…if he’s worthy of my hatred then how should I be handling Willow right now?”

Buffy looked at Giles and frowned. He was looking past her head. Turning she saw what he was looking at and closed her mouth. Spike stood there in the doorway to the training room, staring at them, his eyes unblinking. His mouth agape.

“Spike,” Buffy said quietly and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. 

“Had I known you two would be having an entire conference on Spike I would have made sure I attended,” he called to them from the doorway, leaning against the door jam, one boot up against the wood, arms crossed over his chest, “Beings that I am him.”

Giles ducked his head and grabbed the trash from the couch and threw it in the garbage can. “I suppose this ends our training for this evening,” Giles muttered and pulled on his jacket.

Buffy nodded and said quietly, “Yes…I suppose so.”

“Oh c’mon now guys…you can continue to ponder the wonders that are me. I’ll just stay back here and take notes. Don’t mind me,” Spike called to them with raised eyebrows. 

Is that hurt in his voice…?

“N-no that’ll be quite all right,” Giles answered him as he brushed past the vamp on his way out of the training room. As he left he called over his shoulder to Buffy, “If you’re going to patrol you may want to start soon!”

Buffy gave a small smile to herself and yelled back to Giles, “Thank you!”

Spike stepped away from the door jam and looked at her, his eyes fixed on her face. She took him in…his hair was a little curlier than usual…messed up a bit, but totally on purpose. Beneath his duster he wore a bright blue dress shirt over his standard black tee. He had on a newer pair of black jeans that fit him quite well. She noticed he was wearing a little gold necklace that caught the light as he slowly strode towards her.

“Buffy,” he said quietly and stopped a few feet in front of her.

“Spike I’m sorry…” she began.

Cutting her off he shook his head and quickly said, “S’no big deal, luv. I’m sure that wasn’t the first of the mother hen intervention sessions you’ve had with your Watcher. Deliver us from evil and all that, right? I being the big bad evil that is sure to sully the virginal holiness which is the Slayer despite my having nothing but respect for her…” he cocked his head to the left and looked at her, little strands of hair hanging in her eyes, sweat causing her skin to glisten, her tight tank top hugging her breasts…he smiled slyly at her.

Buffy gave a nervous laugh and looked away from him, his eyes causing her to have trouble forming proper sentences…turning her into a blathering idiot. She had missed him…it had been almost a week since she’d last seen him, when she had begged him not to leave her apartment.

And he’d left.

“Ready to do some fightin,’ luv? I’ve got quite a bit of big bad still left in me despite my neutering chip,” he mumbled as he tapped his head and his smile disappeared, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Buffy looked up at him, her eyes sad. “Spike that’s not what I was saying…”

“But that’s what it comes down to, right? Spike’s got a bloody chip in his cranium, let us all rejoice! I can have a useful partner to fight the baddies with, y’know, since he used to be one, and at the same time, I’ve got a good, safe, replacement for Angel…!” Spike snapped, his voice raising as he lost control of his emotions.

Buffy’s eyebrows knitted together, her heart aching in her chest. “Is that what you think of this?” she whispered and held her hand up, motioning between them.

Spike yelled back at her angrily copying her gesture, “What is this?! When you refer to this, are you talking about our amazing ability to drive each other crazy?! Our keen fashion sense?! What is it, Buffy? ‘Cause back there it was starting to sound like a convenience. I-I was starting to sound like a fucking convenience…” His voice dropped and he added gravely, “So what the hell am I? What is this then?”

Buffy felt the tears well up in her eyes but she pushed them back just as she brushed past him. “I don’t need this shit right now…”

Grabbing her arm, Spike swung her back around and pulled her to him, one swift movement. “Then when do you need me and my shit, Buffy? When will you decide if this is the shit you wanna live with? ‘Cause I’m nobody’s lapdog,” Spike breathed angrily, “I’ve already waited my whole life for this. I ain’t gonna wait the rest of my un-life to find out the answer.”

Buffy wrenched against him, trying to pull her arm away. Anger coursed through her veins, anger that he would think that she only thought of him as something to take care of the itch left behind from Angel. She was angry that he assumed that she had even thought of Angel when he had been holding her…

“You know what I want, Spike. You’re the one that wouldn’t stay the other night. You’re the one that left me…now that we are back in Sunnydale. You’re the one that’s afraid of me now. Don’t blame this all on me and one stupid conversation with Giles,” Buffy warned, her breathing hard.

Spike laughed then, a demented, giggling, hearty laugh of desperation. “I know what you want? Newsflash, Spike the vampire, neutered army sci-fi project is also now a sodden mind-reader, folks!” Spike laughed and shook his head, lowering it.

“Spike…” Buffy began.

Head shooting back up, Spike’s eyes shot darts, his jaw twitched angrily as he vamped, his forehead bulging, his eyes turning yellowish…cat-like. Buffy’s eyebrows furrowed as she struggled against the vampire, his strength overpowering hers as he slammed her up against the closest wall with a growl. 

Buffy grunting and flailing, she attempted to kick him, but Spike pressed his body up against hers, pinning her legs between his and the wall. Gripping her tight against him, Spike glared at her with his yellow, demonic, eyes. 

“Is this what you want, Buffy?! You wanna wake up next to this every day for the rest of your life because it’s best to keep your enemies close to the vest, huh luv?! Gonna take the tame one ‘cause it’s the easy thing to do…make you forget of the one that got away? You and Rupert sit ‘round and contemplate my loyalties, wonderin’ when the Spike bomb is gonna explode?!” Spike pushed against her harder, causing Buffy to let out a yelp of pain, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Spike let out a roar and dove into her neck, the tips of his fangs pricking the skin as Buffy fought against him. He yelped in pain as the chip told him to stop. He let his mouth rest there despite his own discomfort, felt her tremble beneath him, heard her cry out his name. He groaned as the pain increased in his forehead.

Slowly bringing his head up and away from her neck, he un-vamped. Buffy’s eyes were wet with tears, her lips trembling as she stared at him…hurt and afraid. Spike whispered to her, his eyes once again dark pools of blue, “See, that’s where you guys are wrong. T-that’s where you waste all your precious time, Buffy. All the time you spend w-wondering if I’m loyal, if I’m g-gonna stay good, you should be out there getting the ones that aren’t. ‘Cause the answer to the age-old question is right in front of your beautiful face…” he paused and touched her cheek, Buffy winced but leaned into his touch despite herself, “…If I wanted you dead, I’d had killed you already.”

Leaning close to her, he leaned over the two tiny fang pricks in her neck, closed his eyes, and slowly ran his tongue over them, trailed his lips up her neck, his lips pressing against her skin in a kiss just below her ear.

Stepping back from her and letting go Buffy saw his sad eyes, filled with tears, before he ran out of the room, leaving her. She shakily sank against the wall and stared into the shadows in front of her, feeling nothing but numb.


	15. Chapter 15

Do you feel the way you hate  
Do you hate the way you feel?  
Always closest to the flame  
Ever closer to the blade.

Make up your mind  
I need some help  
To find this mind.

*Lyrics from Greedy Fly by Bush

 

When asked why she held her neck, Buffy just shrugged and mumbled that she had strained a muscle on her first night back out on patrol. They accepted it, didn’t pull a Riley-a-la-Dracula on her and search under her turtleneck, didn’t ask anymore questions.

But Dawn asked questions. Wanted to know where Spike was. Wanted to know when she’d see him. Wanted to thank him for getting her back, or at least having helped. 

Buffy didn’t know what to say. She avoided the response to those questions, took a drink of soda or turned the television up higher. Left to go patrol or went upstairs to go to bed. She never answered Dawn as to where Spike was because she didn’t know. She couldn’t tell Dawn when he’d see her because Buffy didn’t know when he’d appear again, or if he even would appear again.

She’d been watching his crypt. Checking to see if his motorcycle had left. Checking to see if the Desoto was gone from off the street too. Wondering all the while that even if the vehicle were to disappear, if she would even do anything and really, what would she do? Beg him to come back? What the hell was she doing anyway?

The things he’d said had left her a mess inside, left her brain addled and stricken by thoughts and what ifs, but she couldn’t tell anyone, lest risk her being pinned down as not being emotionally stable to patrol by Giles, or without being laid out under the microscope by Xander to make sure she wasn’t “on anything.” She could tell by how he looked at her sometimes when she was too quiet that he was wondering. She resented it.

Buffy spent her evenings alone, patrolling, just as she was now. She knew that she should be reestablishing her relationship with Dawn, maybe spending some time with Anya and Xander, who out of the goodness of their hearts were now young parents to her teenage sister. Yet she avoided them the best she could. When she was with them she wasn’t really there. Days passed without any release. No Spike. No sign of Spike. 

Spike…

All she could hear in her brain was his name. All she could feel was his hands clasping her arms and his warm mouth over her neck as his teeth poked at her skin. But despite what she felt, the pain she felt, she could only SEE him…his eyes blue and full of tears as he tore out of the room, black leather jacket flapping behind him, his boots clomping against the wood floor. The sound of his boots echoed in her mind over and over again until it hurt so bad she wanted all the thoughts and feelings and questions to just stop.

If only I could drill a hole in my head and let it all drain out…

He was right. What the hell did she want and why was it so hard for her to figure it out? Why couldn’t she figure herself out? How could she figure their relationship out before she could come up with a map to her own self? 

God.

Buffy lay down in front of a grave marker, felt the cold, damp grass through her sweater. Gripping the grass between her fingers, she wondered what had brought her to this point in her life. Why had she allowed everything to spiral so badly out of control. Now that she had one part stabilized, why was the other half wobbling like a pile of plates on a broomstick handle?

She knew she loved Spike. And she knew that despite her love for him that he was still a vampire, and obviously he could still scared the shit out of her. He was dangerous. He always would be. 

She knew that Giles would not approve, nor would Xander. Anya wouldn’t care either way. Dawn…what would Dawn think?

There was a giggle on the air…it trickled down on her and she recognized it immediately, hopping up and looking around the side of the gravestone. It was Dawn, clutching something to her chest and walking quickly through the cemetery with a smile on her face.

Buffy stood up and called to her. Dawn, looking a tad bit frightened, slowed her walk, her smile disappearing. Glancing around with an air of nervousness, the girl came over to Buffy, still holding onto something Buffy couldn’t make out.

“Hey…late night stroll in the Hellmouth?” Buffy asked with some accusation in her voice.

“Uh, yeah…sorry. Xander and Anya went out tonight to see a movie and I got kinda bored at home. But, uh, I called your house first to see if you were home if that makes my punishment any less.” Dawn raised her eyebrows and gave her sister a half-smile.

“Remember? Not fit to be your guardian?” Buffy joked bitterly, “Besides, you were just heading home, right?” 

Dawn rolled her eyes and nodded. “Oh, yes, heading straight home.”

“What exactly were you doing…or should I dare ask?” Buffy asked and pointed at a bulge in Dawn’s coat.

“Oh yeah! Look!” Dawn opened her jacket partway and inside was a small, orange, kitten, half-asleep. Its greenish eyes looked up at Buffy and it mewed.

“Where did you get that cutie?” Buffy asked and smiled at the kitten.

Dawn’s smile disappeared from her face and she looked at her sister’s feet. “Spike gave it to me.”

Buffy’s smile faded as well, leaving her to stand there in silence, awkwardly looking at her sister, who zipped her jacket back up and looked around her. Up at the sky. Over at a tree. Back at Buffy’s boots. 

“Nice boots,” Dawn mumbled to break the silence.

“Uh, thanks. Um…” Buffy snapped out of her stare and swallowed hard. “He’s home? I mean…”

“He’s at his crypt, yeah,” Dawn answered, “And for the record, you didn’t hear this from me, but he’s beyond bad-moody over you. He’s downright shitful,” Dawn clasped her hands to her mouth and Buffy excused the curse with a wave of her hand, “Uh, he’s just miserable,” Dawn concluded.

“So…you know,” Buffy began nervously.

“Buffy, I’d have to be blind not to. We all know. Just some of us are more ready to admit to it than others. I-I think it’s a good thing. Not…not this not talking and fighting stuff…the other stuff. The…the loving stuff,” Dawn answered her sister, “He loves you.”

“Not much of that going on right now,” Buffy mumbled and rubbed her neck lightly.

“Well how can there be? One of you is going to have to just give in otherwise there won’t be any love…” Dawn stopped as Buffy shot her a death look, “I mean, it takes two people to fight, right?”

“It’s not that easy, Dawn,” Buffy responded and held her head with her hand.

“Why not? What’s so hard. You both like each other. Spike is super cool…and super hot,” Dawn paused again while Buffy shot her another look, “Well he IS. Buffy, what is it that makes it so hard?”

Sighing, Buffy leaned against the headstone and crossed her arms. “What would everyone think? I mean, when I was…when I was with him last time…”

“There was a last time?” Dawn asked in shock.

“I thought you…you said you all knew!” Buffy accused and pointed at Dawn.

Dawn screeched, “How did you keep that a secret?!”

“Stop it, Dawn,” Buffy urged and added, “It wasn’t good…for either of us. It-it wasn’t.”

“Buffy, who cares what everyone else thinks? Did you ask your friends’ permission to date Angel?” Dawn raised an eyebrow at her sister.

“No…but…”

“No ‘buts,’ Buffy. Either you just love him to pieces or you guys continue to go on like this. You’re gonna get wrinklies in your forehead from all the frowning and bird feet by your eyes.”

“Crow’s feet, Dawn,” Buffy corrected and shot her sister a smile, “What if he’s still…what if he’s not…Dawn, he’s a vampire,” Buffy retorted with a frown.

“That never stopped you before,” Dawn shot at her with a shrug, “Don’t you think if Spike was gonna go all wonky and kill people he probably wouldn’t have fallen in love with you? Buffy, he’s IN LOVE with you. He’s not just crushing over you like you would over a Johnny Depp picture. It’s way more serious,” Dawn added with a little giggle, “He’s really cute when he’s desperate, Buffy…the way his little eyebrows do that thing…”

Buffy held up her hand. “Enough,” she joked and added sadly, “I’m just not sure what the next step is.”

Dawn shook her head. “Maybe don’t worry about that right now. Just…just try to get un-mad at each other first.”

She looked at her younger sister, the sister she’d nearly lost and saw the wisdom in her eyes. Something that simple coming from Dawn carried so much more weight than it would have coming from anyone else. Buffy stretched her arms out to Dawn and her sister came to her and hugged her.

“Oh…careful for Fraggle,” Dawn reminded Buffy of the little kitten in her jacket.

“Fraggle?” Buffy laughed.

“Yeah, don’t you remember those little guys we used to watch on television? Jim Henson did them…” Dawn said and shifted the bulge in her jacket.

“Cute, Dawn,” Buffy said and said, “Let me walk you home.”

“Don’t you want to go see Spike?” Dawn asked hopefully.

Buffy looked off towards the direction of the vampire’s crypt and back at her sister. “It can wait. Let’s get you home. Safe. You AND Fraggle.”

Dawn sighed but nodded reluctantly. They left the cemetery together, Buffy not noticing the blonde vamp standing next to a nearby Oak tree. He had been watching as Dawn made her way across the cemetery. He’d been listening as they talked, and wondered the same thing himself. 

What WAS the next step, Slayer. Which one of us has enough balls to take it?

* * *

 

There’s all the pain   
In the way she talks  
All the pain in the way she walks  
All the pain in her wave goodbye  
All the pain in the way she smiles  
All the pain in her fatal charm  
All the pain in her arms.

*Lyrics from Insect Kin by Bush

 

The next evening…

 

Buffy danced around her kitchen, Swiffer in hand and stereo up loud. The latest music from Nine Inch Nails was blaring all around her and she was enjoying their pulsating lyrics and hoppy beats as she slid around the floor in her socks and dusted the corners of her little kitchen with pride.

She’d been cleaning all day. Instead of looking for a daytime job, she found it easier to avoid real life and clean her already spotlessly clean apartment. The smells of Pine-Sol, Endust, Mr. Clean, and Carpet Fresh filled the house, and as Buffy put away her Swiffer and contemplated scrubbing the sink one more time, the doorbell rang.

Running her hands through her messy up-do, Buffy looked down at her clothes. She was covered in splotches of dust and wayward cleaning product. Sighing, Buffy called, “Just a minute!”

Running her hands over her sweats and tank top a couple times to wipe off the dust she realized it was a lost cause. She gave up and rushed over to the stereo and turned it down. “Coming!” She yelled and tripped over the vacuum cord as she made a beeline for the door.

Checking the peephole, she felt her heart leap into her throat. 

Oh shit…

Buffy unlocked the door and opened it slowly, hiding half her body behind the door and swiping her hair from her face. Spike stood outside in her hall, staring back at her, black long-sleeved shirt hugging his body along with black leather pants, his hair tousled up just a little bit again…just enough to make her want to run her hands through it and mess it up a little more.

“Spike,” she acknowledged him quietly.

Spike nodded at her and looked past her inside the apartment. “Got everything moved in I see,” he said quietly.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve just been cleaning,” Buffy answered him, running her hand over her hair again. She rested her hand on her neck where he had bit her. Spike looked at her neck and quickly glanced away as she motioned for him to come in quietly, “You…you can still come in.”

Spike looked around the apartment and stayed close to the door as Buffy self-consciously folded her arms in front of her, looked around, saw the vacuum, and started winding the cord around the back of the vacuum handle nervously.

“Stop that,” he mumbled and grabbed the plug to the vacuum out of the nearby socket and walked it over to her.

Buffy took the cord from him and tucked the vacuum inside the little closet near the kitchen. When she closed the door, Spike was standing directly behind it, looking at her intently.

“Buffy…”

She swallowed hard and turned away from him, heading for the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing two bottles of beer. Digging in a drawer she found the bottle opener and started fussing with the bottle top.

Spike rolled his eyes and went over to her, grabbing the bottle opener from her in one hand and the bottle in the other, quickly flicking the top off and setting the cold bottle down on the counter. He grabbed her hands in both of his and repeated himself, “Stop that.”

Buffy looked up at him and ducked her head towards her shoulder, hiding the pin pricks on her neck and kept her eyes down…looking at the weave of his shirt, staring at his boots, doing whatever she could to avoid looking at him. She knew if she did finally give in and look into those eyes she’d be done for. Then it would be over and she would have to deal with all of it.

Reaching for the side of her face, Spike lifted her head up, leaned close to her, asking her quietly, “Did I hurt you…?” He looked at the tiny punctures he left and touched them gently with his hand. Buffy flinched and backed away.

“Everything you said hurt me, Spike. But wasn’t that the intention?” she shot back at him and grabbed the open bottle of beer and headed for the front room.

Spike grabbed the other bottle, opened it and headed for the living room. “And everything you said to Rupert wasn’t exactly a herald to my sainthood or anything. None of that was particularly kind, either.”

“I didn’t mean it the way you twisted it, Spike. You have a way of making my words mean something else,” Buffy began and took a drink of her beer, “Regardless…I didn’t BITE you.”

“Oh-ho, I’m not the one who’s making things difficult here! Have you ever thought of it this way, luv? You can kill me just as easily as I can kill you, must I refresh your memory…but you don’t see me spending precious time having a nighttime eulogy over whether or not I can trust you not to bash my brains in and thrust a piece of Cedar through my insides now do you?” Spike took an angry swig of beer and set it down on the coffee table loudly, “I was tryin’ to prove a POINT. I can kill you…” his voice calmed and he lowered it, “But I won’t. I don’t want to…”

Buffy sat quietly and thought about that…realized he was right. She was so worried about Spike not being true, not being trustworthy, that she didn’t even think how it must feel for him. The walls that she let crumble when she was with him…he had his own. He’d given up as much as she had to be with her…

“Buffy, I can’t keep this up. You said no more games. But we’re playing a mighty fierce little bout of touch football here and neither of us is scorin’…there isn’t much touchin’ going on either,” Spike said quietly as he leaned against the reclining chair she sat in.

Buffy looked at her hands. “You didn’t need to…to scare me like that to prove a point,” she whispered.

Looking down at her, her hair piled every which way on her head, her hands dirty…Spike felt his insides ripping out.

You don’ even know how cute you are, Slayer. Not a clue in the world what you are doin’ to me…

Taking a deep breath, he crouched down next to the chair and said quietly, “I didn’t want to actually hurt you.”

“Well you did. It didn’t hurt me physically…it just,” Buffy looked at him, “It just hurt, okay? If that was the affect you wanted, then you can pat yourself on the back ‘cause you got me real good this time. Congrats.”

Spike closed his eyes and whispered, “I wasn’t feeling warm and fuzzy either…” He opened his eyes and took her hand, “Buffy, I can’t do this any more.”

Looking away, she mumbled, “It’s probably better this way.”

Spike looked up and let out a growl of utter frustration. “No, Buffy! I don’t mean it that way. I mean,” he leaned closer to her, resting his arm on her knees, holding her hand close to his chest, “The fight is out of me. Either you want me or you don’t. Either I’ve proven myself trustworthy or not. Ball’s in your court, luv. I’m a vampire, that’s painfully obvious. But if you can’t see that I’m also over the bend batty for you…then I don’t know what else I can do to bring it home to you.”

Leaning forward, Buffy reached around him and ran her hand up his neck into his hair. Moving close to him, she kissed him gently. Spike brought his arms up around her, standing up and lifting her with him, holding her to him, relief coursing through his body. He had missed her touch…missed the way her body seemed to fit perfectly next to his.

“What do you want, baby?” asked her softly as he brushed his lips against her forehead.

Buffy looked at him and smiled.

 

****

Spike knocked at the bathroom door. The shower had been running forever, and he’d been waiting for her for what seemed like an eternity. 

“You’re teasing me now, you know that, right?” he called to her through the door, resting his head against the wood with a sigh.

The door opened then, sending Spike stumbling forward. Steam met him as he peered around the door.

“I see…” Spike said with a smirk, “Hide and seek now, maybe a little rough and tumble?”

Spike caught a glimpse of Buffy from behind the glass shower door. Sliding it open a crack, more steam pouring out, Spike felt little pelts of hot water dance upon his hands and bare forearms.

“Buffy…?”

He felt a hand pull his towel off from around his waist with a quick tug. A smooth hand slowly slid up around his abdomen, and turned him around. Buffy pressed her naked body up against his, a smile on her lips as she kissed his.

“In,” she ordered with a smile and backed him up and into the shower. Sliding the door shut, they were engulfed in a cloud of fog. Buffy slid her hands over his chest, up and over his shoulders, down his back, clasping his ass, pulling him closer to her as she spread her legs a bit, teasing him, letting his dick glance against the insides of her legs…

“Gonna get wet,” Spike whispered and pushed her up against the wall of the shower with a smirk.

Buffy stared at him, water pouring down her face as the spray shot past her, hitting the back wall. “I was counting on it,” she answered him and began kissing him, her wet lips sliding over his as their hands held touched one another…

“Buffy?”

 

* * *

“Buffy…?”

Buffy turned off the water and grabbed the towel off the shower door, wrapped herself inside it, and stared at the door. She knew that she could only hide from him for so long, daydream things she wanted to do but couldn’t bring herself to actually see through.

Swallowing hard, she opened the door and looked at Spike, rivulets of water sliding down her face. She blinked and wiped her wet hair away from her face and walked over to her dresser, giving the towel another tuck under her arm as she began digging through her dresser for a pair of tight jeans.

“It’s been forever since I’ve gone out. I mean, really out,” Buffy babbled nervously.

“We can stay here if that’s what you want,” he answered her and sat on the bed, watching her as she dug through her clothes, watching her smooth back…

“No. No, I said I wanted to go out,” Buffy replied and found her jeans. Turning to Spike, she tossed them at him and he grabbed them midair, holding the jeans up with a little smile.

“These are nice,” he said with a smirk and a raised brow. Buffy rolled her eyes at him but smiled all the same, glad to have a guy actually paying attention to her…to have this guy paying attention to her again.

Buffy opened the closet and looked through her tops, not able to find one that she wanted to wear, everything looking too boring, or everything having been something she’d already worn a million times. 

Sliding up behind her, Spike wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “If I can interject for just a second…”

Buffy leaned back into him and wrapped her arms over his. “I’m sure this will have something to do with my going naked, right?”

Spike opened his mouth and closed it. “You can’t blame a guy for trying..”

“No,” Buffy retorted and grabbed a lavender sweater, “Now out.” She pointed to the door and tossed the sweater at the bed.

Spike pouted his lower lip and whined, “But Buffy…” He followed her over to the bed and tugged at the bottom of her towel.

“In your dreams,” she answered and crossed her arms over her chest, holding the towel up and motioning with her eyes towards the door.

“Fine.” Spike’s shoulders fell as he trudged from the room sullenly and closed the door behind him.

Buffy unwrapped the towel and wiped at her body, tossed it into the corner, opening a drawer and searching for the perfect pair of sexy underwear.

Where is my sexy underwear? The underwear I used to wear when I was sexy and had boyfriends and was hoping they would think I was sexy and thus would eventually see my sexy underwear?

The door burst open then, Spike lunged into the room, tackled her onto the bed and straddled her, both knees on either side of her body, his arms held her down with a firm grip. Breathing hard, he smiled down at her and said, “I’ve been waiting so long for you to get ready, I think I did fall asleep…and now, I must be dreaming. That’s the only explanation for this.”

Buffy, still in shock that he’d barged in on her like that, lay underneath him, her eyes wide, her heart pumping a mile a minute. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it…not sure what she could say that would be better than just kissing him.

Spike leaned down and began kissing her then, slowly releasing his grip on her arms, sliding his body on top of hers, letting his legs slide over hers, laying his chest down on top of hers. Their fingers intertwined with one another’s as they kissed, Buffy wrapping her legs up and around his butt and holding him close. He lifted himself up and pulled his shirt off over his head, Buffy grabbing his neck and pulling him back down to her. 

She had missed the way he felt next to her…it had been so long since they’d been together. She’d needed this. She had needed him.

He kissed her neck, slowly kissing the place he had grazed before, and she heard him say, just above a whisper, “I’m sorry…sorry…”

Buffy rubbed his back with her hand and responded quietly, “I’m fine…I’m okay now.”

Buffy felt him smile next to her skin then as he brushed his lips against her collarbone and slowly slid his hands along her breasts, touching them gently, then a little harder…kneading as he kissed the tops of them, pushed them together, his lips brushing the tops of each breast softly as he ran his tongue over one nipple and looked up at her, his eyes full of desire.

Buffy twisted beneath him and flung him over, landing on top of him with a pleased grin on her face as she hovered above him, and let her wet hair hang over his head, falling all around him and kissed his neck.

“No fair,” he said, pressing his tongue up behind his teeth with a smirk.

“Who said we were playing by the rules?” Buffy asked and rubbed her chest up against his, slowly running her tongue down his abdomen, stopping at the top of his pants. She looked up at him and unsnapped the top button and found the zipper…

Spike pursed his lips a bit and raised his abdomen to her as she quickly unzipped his leather pants. Laughing to herself she said, “And you had to pick the slutty pants…didn’t you?”

Spike smirked and slipped them down off his hips in one quick motion saying, “Oh gee, I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

Trying not to look at the erection he was shamelessly sporting, Buffy quickly untied his boots and tossed them to the floor, pulling his tight pants the rest of the way off him, letting them land somewhere near his boots. 

Buffy stared at him then, knowing what he was thinking, knowing what she wanted as she slid her body up and over his, making sure to tease him a little, just like in her daydream, allowing his dick to slide up against the inside of her legs as she opened them and shut them on his erection…

Spike let out a little gasp and closed his eyes as she slid herself up and down the outside of his shaft. She kissed his partially opened mouth and slowly made her way down to him, her lips closing around the head…her mouth taking him all in as she gently grasped at his balls, slid her mouth up and down. She could feel his hands in her hair, running through the wet strands repeatedly, held on to her as she swirled her tongue around him slowly.

As Buffy felt him with one hand, she continued to taste him…took him into her mouth as far as she could. She could feel him getting excited, his hands holding on to her hair, then letting go and gripping the sides of the bed as he arched his back and called her name faintly…

Buffy licked him one last time as he felt himself nearly lose it, his hands shaking and his body writhing slightly beneath her. Taking advantage of the moment, she slid herself up and over him, lowering her body onto his, spreading her legs and taking him in, immediately bringing herself down on top of him hard…holding onto his shoulders as she stared into his eyes. She wanted to let him know that this was it…that she was no longer playing. That she was his and had been for some time.

Spike watched her above him, watched her body move in the lamplight as she lowered herself, letting him fill her from within, watched her eyes, unblinking as she opened her mouth and said his name. And he smiled back at her…knew the battle with Buffy was over.

As he felt himself give way, he let out a growl. She ground down against him one last time, collapsing upon him, breathing hard and holding onto him. Buffy wrapped her leg over his and kissed his neck.

“Buffy…you realize what you do to me?” Spike asked her breathlessly.

Buffy smiled to herself and answered, “No, why don’t you enlighten me?”

“You bring me to my knees. I’ve been around forever it seems, and no one has ever made me feel the way you do,” he closed his eyes and let out a breath.

Buffy was quiet for a long time. After a while, she whispered, “I don’t know what to say…”

Spike kissed the top of her head chuckled, “We’re not going out tonight, are we?”

“No…I think I’ve had enough excitement.”

Spike pulled the duvet cover up and over them. “I missed you,” she said quietly.

“What was there to miss? I hadn’t been there all that long,” Spike answered her and ran his hand down along her back.

Buffy shook her head. “No. I missed you. You were there every day. I missed seeing you watching me as I walked to the kitchen in the morning. I missed your telling me to have a good day. I missed sitting with you on the couch watching bad television.”

Spike frowned and looked down at her. “Hey now…that was Passions. That’s some of the best stuff you’ll ever witness on daytime TV,” he retorted.

Buffy’s breathing slowed and she was asleep. Spike let go and soon fell into his own slumber, happy and content, knowing he would wake up with her, his Slayer. The woman he was most proud of. The one that was so amazing, and strong, and bloody gorgeous, he’d lost all thought of killing her long ago. He’d been much too taken with her from the very beginning to actually want to end her life. 

He slept soundly, fell asleep to sound of her heart beating next to where his should have been. And for a moment, he could almost imagine it beating in time with hers.


	16. Chapter 16

Is simplicity the best  
Or simply the easiest  
The narrowest path  
Is sometimes the holiest  
So walk on barefoot for me  
Suffer some misery  
If you want my love  
If you want my love

Man will survive   
The harshest conditions  
And stay alive  
Through difficult decisions  
So make up your mind for me  
Walk the line for me  
If you want my love  
If you want my love…

**Lyrics from Judas by Depeche Mode

 

Bloody hell.

Somehow Spike had managed to sleep in. And now, joyful sounds from below were slowly floating up the staircase into the bedroom like stinging, killer bees. 

The Scoobies have invaded our love nest…

Dawn’s giggle and Xander’s laughing. Anya’s whining and Giles’ babbling. Spike could hear all of it and it made him groan and roll his eyes. 

I finally get Buffy to let me in and now…I’m trapped in her room with the Goof Troop downstairs ready to judge us.

It was just his luck. Slowly crawling out of bed, Spike slipped his shirt from the night before over his head and slid into his leather pants. Now he was REALLY hating the fact that he’d worn leather pants. Shaking his head, he went into the bathroom and swished a capful of Scope into his mouth.

“Spike?”

Turning, his mouth full of mouthwash, looking more like a blowfish than a vampire, Spike stared wide-eyed back at Buffy, who was watching him from the hall.

Spitting the mouthwash out into the sink and looking back at her, he shook his head and motioned for her to come into the bathroom.

“No…” Buffy retorted as he grabbed her arm, pulled her into the bathroom, and shut the door behind them.

“Buffy, what the hell are all of them doing down there?” Spike asked nervously and ran his hand through his hair.

“What do you mean, Spike? Uh, newsflash…they’re my friends. Giles is my Watcher. I’m The Slayer. Oh, yeah, and in case you’ve got full-blown Alzheimer’s, Dawn is my sister.” Buffy crossed her arms.

“Yes, I got that, totally aware of the joyful Scoobies and the happy Watcher and all that. What I’m sayin’ is…why NOW?” Spike sighed, his eyes darting around wildly.

Maybe I can make a jump for it out the bathroom window…oh wait. Sunlight. Piss.

“Spike, they won’t know the difference. And besides, what did you think? You were gonna keep us secret forever?” Buffy responded with a smirk and opened the door, “You were the one that wanted us to come out with it, remember?”

“They’re gonna wonder why the hell I’m hiding upstairs…” Spike snapped back at her, ignoring the fact that she was right.

“Exactly. So maybe you should think about that and QUIT hiding upstairs,” Buffy said and headed back down the steps, leaving him to stare at the wall in the hallway.

Well she don’t pull no punches does she?

Taking his hands through his hair, which was a mess, Spike dug around in the bathroom closet, locating some hair gel, and poured a glob into his hands. Slicking his hair back in standard Spike-style, he washed his hands and shut off the bathroom light.

Time to face the music.

Spike headed down the stairs, boots clomping on the wooden steps as he hit the bottom landing, and looked around the corner. Feeling like an awkward teenager at his first party, he stared back at the entire room full of Buffy’s friends. Of course all eyes were on him. They hadn’t known he was upstairs.

“Uh, heya Spike,” Buffy greeted him and went to stand near him.

“I didn’t know Spike was here,” Dawn said accusingly and ran over to him, giving him a smile and a little punch on the arm, “What’s up?”

Spike looked at Xander, whose wide-eyed stare was now quickly being replaced by a furrowed brow. “Not much, Nibblet. Glad to see you so cheerful. Does my heart good.”

Giles looked around the room nervously and glanced at Tara, who gave a small smile and looked at Spike mouthing a, “Hi.” He nodded back at her and headed through the sea of staring friends into the kitchen.

Xander jumped up and grabbed Buffy’s arm. “Did you know he was hiding upstairs?”

Buffy stared back at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” 

“Spike’s gone all stalker on you again. How does he do that? Just showing up wherever he wants? Are we sure he doesn’t have that whole bat capability like Dracula did?” Xander continued, ignoring her.

Anya and Spike returned from the kitchen, Spike drinking a Coke and trying not to feel so uncomfortable but having no such luck, Anya sipping a Capri Sun juice packet, looking oblivious to the tension in the room.

“He wasn’t…” Buffy began, looked up and seeing Spike, looking down at his feet, went to the middle of the room and crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

Now all eyes were on HER.

Here goes nothing…

“Uh, guys…there’s something we need to discuss here,” Buffy began. Dawn leaned against the armchair that Xander sat in, watching her sister intently. Xander glared at Spike but averted his attention towards Buffy. 

Buffy continued, “Spike’s been a member of our team for some time,” she looked at Giles who looked away, “And I think it’s about time we begin to give him some respect. He’s more than earned it.”

Xander’s jaw dropped. Spike shifted his gaze from his boots to Buffy. Glancing around the room at the others’ reactions, Spike caught Xander’s bug-eyed stare and laughed to himself.

“Spike is a huge reason we win the good fight. He’s not perfect. I know this. But none of us are. I sure am not. And no, he’s not human,” Buffy glanced at Anya who nodded in approval, “But he’s on our side. He may not have started out that way, but I have not a doubt in my mind that he’s on our side now,” she turned and looked at Dawn, “And if you doubt me…then remember what he did to protect Dawn.”

Xander mumbled, “Yeah, and avert your eyes from all the millions of people he’s killed.”

Buffy turned around and looked at Xander angrily. “What was that, Xander? Please do speak up.”

Xander stood up angrily and pointed at Spike. “He’s a vampire, Buffy. Yeah, he might be chipped like a little kitten but I do recall numerous times that that little kitten turned into a rather large, rabid, tiger. He tried to kill you as a matter of fact. Why should I be pledging my allegiance to him now all of the sudden? And this time you can’t fall back on the whole ‘he’s souled’ excuse ‘cause chip doesn’t equal a full-fledged soul. You’ve said so yourself.”

Buffy looked around the room, her eyes boring into everyone else’s. “Okay. Xander wants to know why we should treat Spike like an equal. I’ve already given a prime example. Dawn and his loyalty to us and to her should be all we need. But hey, what does that mean, right?” Buffy shot Xander a dirty look and he flinched, “How’s this…?”

Striding over to Spike, Buffy grabbed the can of Coke out of his hand, placed it on the kitchen counter, wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a huge kiss on his lips. 

Taking a few seconds for it to register that she was kissing him in plain view of everyone in the room, Spike stood there dumbfounded, his eyes wide, his hands out at his sides. Slowly putting his arms around her in return, he opened his lips to hers and they began to kiss passionately. He smiled through the kiss and closed his eyes.

Mine. My Slayer…at a girl…

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Xander whispered in disgust and turned his head. Dawn shot him a dirty look and turned to smile at Tara who smiled back approvingly. Anya’s mouth was agape as she watched, entranced, as Buffy and Spike, dead to the world around them, continued to kiss one another. Giles turned and looked away, silent.

Buffy broke the kiss, looking up at Spike through her long lashes, love in her eyes…and a glint of relief mixed in there. He squeezed her arm and she turned to face everyone, Spike’s arms wrapping around her from behind. He smiled at Xander from behind Buffy, a grin of satisfaction…a taunt. He jutted his chin out a bit and smirked.

“I love Spike. I’ve loved Spike for quite a while now. And I spent all this time sneaking behind your backs and being in denial only to hurt you guys…and myself and him in the process. So here it is. Out in the light…we are together. If you don’t like it, I’m sorry…no, let me re-phrase that…I’m NOT sorry…you’re going to have to deal with it somehow. Because I’m done making decisions about him based on my reservations for what you will think of me,” Buffy looked at Xander who stared back at her, still in shock, “If you love me, you’ll understand my decision.”

There was silence for a long time. Xander shook his head and left the apartment, breaking the silence with the slam of the door behind him as he left. Anya, giving an apologetic shrug, put down her juice and rushed out the door after him. Dawn clapped her hands and squealed, running over to Buffy and Spike and giving them a hug.

Giles said quietly, “I think I will be going now.”

Spike watched Giles grab his coat and nod at Buffy as he left. Gently loosening Dawn from his waist, and glancing at Buffy, Spike rushed out the door after the Watcher. 

 

****

“Giles…” Spike called after him as he pushed open the door to the street. Giles turned and looked at Spike with tired eyes, his mouth partially open. Spike stood in the open doorway, keeping himself within the shadow of the awning.

“Listen,” Spike began, “I know we aren’t best mates or anything movie of the week like that. I understand that I’ll always be nothing but a soulless vampire and Slayer killer to you. I’m the thing you have tried to kill. You’ve been killing my kind your entire career. I am the thing you wish most to rid from this world. I’m not stupid, despite how very hard you try to convince yourself that I am. And I know that you aren’t no dimwit either. What Buffy said back there, about my loyalties…she’s right. You do know that by now, don’t you?” 

Giles looked down and sighed. “It’s hard to say where your loyalties lie, Spike,” he looked up at the vamp and stared at him, “How do we know any of your motives?”

Throwing his hands up in the air with anger but managing to keep his cool and stay silent, Spike walked over to Giles and pointed up saying in a whisper, “I helped you, Rupert. I found her. I tended to her. I brought her back. And you still wonder what my motives are?”

Giles closed his eyes. “And…and for that, I owe you thanks…”

“You’re damn straight you do,” Spike snapped, “I’m not the big bad here. I’m just a…just a guy who’s found himself somewhere he NEVER thought he’d be. Do you think I ever thought I would be in love with THE Slayer?” Spike shook his head and leaned against the wall.

“But really, Spike...is that what it is? Love? Y-you haven’t got a soul…” Giles pointed out to him.

Spike glared at him and spat out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that…thanks for that bit of pertinent information.”

“Your ability to actually love...it’s…” Giles fumbled for the words he wanted.

Spike angrily pushed himself off the wall and stood in front of Giles, his face inches from the Watcher’s. “Go on, Rupert. You tell me…YOU…the bachelor Watcher of the Slayer. You tell ME…how I should FEEL. Tell ME that I can’t love,” Spike dared him.

Giles opened his mouth and whispered, “I-I…can’t say that for sure...”

Backing away Spike said quietly, “Then maybe you should just forget that you ever made that judgment. Quit assuming you know what you’re dealing with. Better yet, quit trying to deal with me. I’m not any of your concern.”

Giles snapped angrily, with fire in his words, “The Slayer IS my concern. She’s more than my concern…don’t forget that Spike. If you hurt her, there will be hell to pay.”

Spike stepped back towards the steps and answered him, an air of sternness in his voice. “Then there’s no worries there Rupert. No reason for you to stay up late at night and lose your precious beauty sleep. We’ve got something in common, you and I. Buffy, your Slayer…she’s not just my concern. She’s my world.”

They stared at each other for a while, until the Watcher looked away, breaking the stare-down, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the sunlight leaving Spike to stand in the shadows. 

 

****

Willow sat on a park bench, watching them from afar. She’d been doing this for weeks. They never noticed her because she always stayed out of view, behind a tree or far enough away that they wouldn’t see her. She’d watch from behind a car, or from behind a shelf.

There was Tara, Xander, Anya, and Dawn this time, sitting on a blanket in the middle of the lush, green lawn, eating sandwiches and giggling, goofing around and chasing each other, throwing a Frisbee and falling around.

It was all so innocent, easy going and simple. She hated every minute of it, a hatred growing up her stomach, burning and gurgling in the back of her throat. She watched as her former lover and her former friends went on with life, completely forgetting that she had ever existed. Not once stopping and looking sad. No faraway looks, nothing.

Huh. They think they’re better than me.

And as she watched, she clenched her teeth, her fingers digging into her palms as she held her hands in fists. Sometimes it would hurt…but only for a second. The second before she’d give into the hateful feelings. She always did these days. It made the pain so much less. Easier.

Hate was an easy emotion for her these days. It worked its way through her mind like a lazy ride down a bubbling stream, weaved itself into her daily activities like a little rabbit making its way through the trees...except this rabbit had fangs. And it knew its way around Willow’s mind. Had etched a path throughout her psyche.

She knew it was just a matter of time before she would have to show them. Show them what she’d learned, just who she had managed to become without them and their help, without her. 

Willow watched as Tara smiled and pushed a piece of longish, light-brown hair behind her ear and gave Dawn a hug, watched as Tara used a plastic butter knife to slather mayonnaise onto a piece of bread. She made Dawn a sandwich and sat back, happily letting the spring sun fall over her face. She watched Tara close her eyes.

She would pay. They would all pay for forgetting her. For thinking she was worthless. For trying to stop her. For trying to interfere. For writing her off as just some nerd. They would see.

Willow stood up from the park bench, her jean skirt covered in splotches of blood, blood from her palms, her fingernails having gouged them until they bled. Wiping the blood off on her thighs, she walked off quietly, her eyes flashing black. She didn’t feel pain. Not physical pain anyway.

I didn’t want her anymore…

She tried to figure out why Tara even mattered anymore. Why she suddenly felt jealous that Tara had moved on. Wasn’t that what she had wanted?

No. NO. She’s supposed to cower and stutter and wonder where I am. I’m what she feared. I’m BAD. I’m doing magic that she couldn’t even IMAGINE…and she’s supposed to look down on that. But…but she’s not even paying attention…

Willow glanced over her shoulder one last time, watched as her friends continued their picnic, unaware of her presence. Tossing her red hair over her shoulder, she huffed up the hill.

They’ll know soon. They’ll have to start paying attention because there won’t be anyplace to turn but towards me. 

The sky immediately began to cloud over, thunder rumbling as the wind picked up. Willow smiled when she heard Dawn’s familiar screech as raindrops began to fall from the sky, began to pour from the sky like a torrent of emotion and Willow smiled, walking away, her boots splashing in the puddles.  
****

“What did you say to Giles?”

Buffy sat on the floor in her bedroom, sorting through socks for her sock drawer. Spike had just poked his head into the bedroom, an un-lit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Me and Rupert had a heart-to-heart chat. Nothing important,” Spike answered her, the cigarette bobbing precariously from his lips with every word.

“Oh that would be the biggest line of horse doo I’ve ever heard,” Buffy answered him as she paired two socks together, “And you don’t really think you’re going to smoke that thing in here, do you?”

Spike picked the cigarette out of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger with a frown. “Buffy, it’s obvious your little pow-wow today didn’t go over so hot. I simply told Giles that he’d be best to quit questioning where I’m coming from. It should be as clear as day to him AND to Dander that I’m not going to hurt you. ‘Guess what they’re lacking in brain capacity they make up for in uselessness.”

Buffy tossed the socks in the open bottom drawer and looked up at him. “And I suppose Giles took that bit of information with hugs, kisses, and parting gifts?”

“No, Ms. Sarcasm…he didn’t like it. But I think he understands that I’m not going to back down,” he looked at her unblinking, “I think he gets where I’m coming from.”

“That’d be a first,” Buffy mumbled.

“And I’m not even going to attempt to speak to that ponce Xander. He acts like you’re his girlfriend and I bloody stole you out from underneath him,” Spike cringed at the mental picture and said, “Lemme rephrase that…”

“Xander’s protective. It’s just his way,” Buffy defended him.

“Well I’m the one that’s going to be doing the protecting from now on…Bob Vila’s just gonna have to wrap his lil’ brain ‘round that anomaly and sit on it.” Spike tucked the cigarette behind his ear and crossed his arms.

“Xander’s pissed…I’m just going to let him be for a while,” she said quietly and stood up.

“Oh, poor baby,” Spike muttered and rolled his eyes.

Buffy twisted the mini-blinds closed and turned to look at Spike. “You handled that well today…I mean it.”

He looked down. “Only ‘cause of you.” He looked back up at Buffy.

“It was time to be honest.” Buffy walked over to him and plucked the cigarette from his left ear and tucked it over hers.

Spike smirked and leaned close to her. “Stealin’ my things now? Don’t you get too comfortable there…” he ran his hand up her leg. “I can still make you squirm if need be.”

Buffy closed her eyes as he pulled her close. She could feel the heat rise inside her body, the wave of energy flush her cheeks, surge through her body, run over her like steam. As soon as they were close, as soon as she heard his voice…heard him speak to her like that, as soon as she looked into the intensity of his eyes, she was lost.

“Time to patrol,” she whispered as his lips ran over her neck, kissed her gently. 

“All work and no play…” he growled as he played with the top button of her shirt.

“Gives birth to new, ruthless, blood-suckers?” Buffy joked and took his hand in both of hers.

“Aw, you mean like me?” he answered back and smiled at her, blinking with mock innocence.

Buffy smiled and shook her head. “Unfortunately they’re not in the least bit as gorgeous as you are…not in the least bit.” Her smile faded and she stared into his eyes…that previous wave of heat starting to flood back, beginning to smother her once again.

Spike tilted his head to one side and smiled. “Was that a compliment, Slayer?”

Buffy patted his shoulder and went out into the hall with a laugh. “You act so surprised.”

Spike followed her downstairs as she grabbed up her jacket and some stakes. “ ‘Could be ‘cause I am.”

Buffy looked at her stakes and answered quickly, “Was I really that terrible to you?”

Spike’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never gave you a crumb of credit…nothing did I?” Buffy looked up at him but quickly hurried towards the door.

Spike grabbed her arm. “Does that matter now? I mean…no, you never paid me a compliment. You were usually too busy telling me to get lost but, that’s in the past.”

Buffy sighed and opened the door, looking over her shoulder at him. “Yeah. Y-you’re right…”

As she locked the door up Spike stood behind her, running his hands over her arms and whispered in her ear, “Gorgeous doesn’t even begin to define you, luv.”

Buffy felt her cheeks blush as she quickly ducked away from him. She tossed a stake to him. Buffy reached for the cigarette behind her ear and handed it to Spike who shrugged at her and smiled. Placing it between his lips, he lit it up with a flick of flame.


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

Do I know you?  
You can’t ever know me  
Still there’s something there that we both see  
Struggling  
Complicated souls  
We’re the same  
But who are we without this game, you and me?  
And the distance we keep only prolongs the ecstasy.

The thoughts we share but hold close to ourselves  
You’ve seduced me long enough  
You’ve reduced me to nothing  
Because I wanted your heart and your soul  
Not just a little bit of control…over you.

Gripping onto my last bit of hope  
Holding tight…holding on to the nothing I have come to know  
I search for something more  
Something pure  
Giving in to the forbidden could never be so right  
I remain bare and open to you  
Stark.

 

“That was really brilliant what you did there with that whole swing around the flagpole bit,” Spike complimented her as they sat on her couch watching but not really watching The Late Show.

“I knew three months of pole dancing would come in handy eventually,” Buffy said, the bitterness accented in her voice. She stared into her mug of hot chocolate and bit the insides of her cheeks.

Spike shut his eyes. “That’s not what I meant Buffy and you know it,” he whispered to her.

“I know,” Buffy said and patted his leg, “I’m just being snippy…sorry.”

He opened his eyes and smiled. “You apologized…to ME…for being snippy!” He giggled and looked around the room, “That’s downright scary, Slayer. Are you sure there aren’t any other apocalyptic signs we should be worried about?”

“Don’t be so damn cocky about it,” she warned, taking a sip of cocoa and regretting the usage of the word ‘cocky’ around Spike.

He smirked and started to unbuckled his belt, “I just can’t help it, pet…he’s always there nagging at me…”

Buffy shook her head and put down her drink, grabbing his hands away from his belt. “Let’s not go there right now.”

“Well when can we go there?” He smiled at her and took her hands and brought them to his lips.

Buffy answered, “Just a minute.”

Spike frowned and watched as she rushed into the kitchen and climbed onto the counter, opening the high cupboard doors above the refrigerator. Climbing back down, she slowly came into the living room, something hidden behind her back.

“What you got there, Buffy?” Spike squinted and craned his neck trying to catch a glimpse.

Buffy smiled and came around the back of the couch holding out a package to him. It was small and white, wrapped with a red bow. She sat next to him and said quietly, “Open it.”

Spike stared at her, his mouth half open and a little smile playing upon the corners of his lips. Letting out a deep breath, he tore the little bow off the white package and removed the lid.

Frowning, he held up a key on a round keychain, the silver glinting in the television glow. He looked from the dangling key to Buffy.

“That’s your key,” Buffy explained, “To this apartment.” He blinked and looked from her back to the shiny key.

“So I can…come over whenever?” he asked quietly with amazement.

Buffy shook her head. “No…so that you can come home,” she whispered.

His blue eyes stared and he opened his mouth but closed it, not sure what to say. Taking the key into his left hand and closing his fingers around it, he looked at the television screen, the blur of some actress walking across the screen, shaking Letterman’s hand. All of his thoughts became a blur as well. Everything scrambled along with his vision.

“I-I don’t want you to leave,” Buffy explained, touching his forearm, “I want you to stay.”

Spike looked back down into his hand, looked at the key and glanced at the door. “I can’t do that, Buffy…”

Buffy’s eyebrows raised. “Yes, yes you can.”

Spike shook his head and said, “No. I can’t. I’ve got a place, my crypt. It’s really the best place for someone like me. I-I have bad habits. You wouldn’t want me around belching and…and scratching,” he stammered, “A-and I like to sing in the shower…loudly…Hall and Oates sometimes or filthy lyrics from punk songs. You wouldn’t like that. And I’m really not a quiet sleeper and I need to have a fridge full of blood to nip at while I watch the telly…”

“I don’t care,” Buffy answered him laying a gentle hand on his.

“I can’t,” Spike said quietly, more trying to convince himself that he couldn’t rather than her.

Buffy looked down and pulled her hand away. She nodded without saying a word, and stood up, heading for the stairs slowly, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Spike stood up, the box falling to the floor, his voice low and shaking, “I-I want to…”

Buffy turned and looked at him. He slowly walked over to her, holding the key in his open palm. “I want to so bad. I haven’t…I haven’t had a real home since…since I was human.”

She whispered, “Then do it.”

“You don’t want me here, Buffy. You think you do, but you don’t.” He shook his head and handed the key back towards her, his hand shaking.

Buffy looked away and said quietly, “Every day I spent with you…” she looked at him sadly, her eyes glistening with tears, “Spike…I know it’ll be hard but it’s even harder without you.”

All he could see was her. Her eyes, her face, the way her chin trembled when she got upset, the way her eyes filled with tears but didn’t cry. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

Letting go of pride and fear, he reached out and scooped her into his arms, holding her close to him. She pressed her face against his cool neck and gripped his shoulder with one hand as he ran his hand along her hair.

“It’s been a long time since…since I had a home. I’ve forgotten what that’s all about,” he whispered into her hair.

“Just tell me you won’t leave.”

Spike closed his eyes, taking in her scent, her warmth, feeling her hand upon his shoulder, the other one on his chest. That feeling, the feeling that he knew could be nothing but love swept through him as he answered her, “Who said anything ‘bout leaving?”

And as they held each other there, Spike rocking her against him slowly, they began to dance to the sound of nothing…the television had become background noise. They didn’t need any music to move together. All Spike could hear was her heartbeat…all she could listen to was her heart.

Buffy looked up into his face and saw his eyes were wet with tears. He looked away and wiped at them quickly with the back of his hand. “ Just happy…that’s all,” he mumbled with embarrassment, causing Buffy to smile at him. She continued to move with him, their bodies close, each sway an excuse to touch…

As she felt herself drifting into another place, somewhere happy and safe, safer than she’d ever felt in before, she heard him begin to sing softly to her, something she’d heard before but sung with different words…

 

“Aura Lea, Aura Lea, maid of golden hair,  
Sunshine came along with thee and swallows in the air.  
In thy blush the rose was born, music when you spake,  
Through thine azure eye the morn, sparkling seemed to break.  
Aura Lea, Aura Lea, bird of crimson wing,  
Never song has sung to me, as in that sweet spring.”

 

“It’s beautiful.” she asked breathless. He had a beautiful, clear, voice. “I didn’t think you liked to sing.”

“Sometimes,” he responded and kissed her forehead, “Only when I feel like it. You make me feel like it.”

They continued to slowly dance as he hummed the tune, the one she knew with different words but the same melody, holding each other in the strobe light of the flickering television set, Spike knowing he was going to do everything he could to be worthy of her, Buffy sure that she could finally be free of her reservations and just simply love him. Both of them knew everything didn’t always have to make complete sense to be right.

 

*Lyrics to Aura Lea a popular Civil War folk song, the melody which was later used for Elvis’ Love Me Tender

Music from the Dark Slayer Trilogy--Black Velvet, Red Wine, and White Knight:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for Willow (‘cause I’m sure you are all asking) I have a story in mind for her…but since this trilogy is about Buffy’s spiral into darkness and her climb back out with the help and the love of Spike, I’m not going to get further into Willow’s story at this time. But maybe someday I will take a trip down Willow’s dark path.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading The Dark Slayer Trilogy! I wouldn’t write and finish anything if it wasn’t for readers, so thank you so much! And remember, comments are a writer's best friend.


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